He sat
Staring into space
Every thought brought him back to her face
Glass of whiskey in hand
Wondering how she had slipped through his fingers like fine grains of sand
Next to him
A cigar burnt, now she had gone it was his only sin
Watching the smoke
Seeing her image, knowing it was all a big hoax
As the image began to dance
Drawing him in to a deep trance
As she writhed
Twirled, whirled and sighed
Tears running down his stubble covered chin
Wondering how he could even begin
To win back the love of the one her had hurt
With thoughtless words that now seemed absurd
The glass falling from his grip
As his reality began to slip
As the maiden of smoke
Began to provoke
Taunting and mocking
Showing him things that were meant to shock him
The dancing imp
Stripped naked making him glimpse
Perfection once known
In one he no longer owned
The taunting continued
Until with venomous attitude
He stubbed out the fire
Making the image of his desire
Disappear instantly
Beginning to message his love insistently
Shocked when she replied
All hope of winning her back now alive
As he sat staring into space
Every thought bringing back images of her face…

Ā© S.J Warner 2014.
Image from Pinterest – source amazepicsvids.blogspot.co.uk