She smelt of filthy smoke
And second hand cabaret
Her fingers lingered for a joke
As the men fell about in decay
Even the brightest butterflies stagnate
Succumbed to the safety of a second date
She smiled her pearly whites
Each an iceberg for sinking ships
They traded their lives, their days for nights
Until she alone held all the chips
Mesmerised by her magpie trinkets
They the ghosts baring swords and songs
Gave her hours she returned only minutes
But getting their fix they smiled just as long
Forgotten and perished like sad rotten fruit
Moving on with further prized loot
Brushing off her morals like stray hairs
'Love is a game seldom won' she declares
Her opiate eyes bereft of glow
Stained and scarred and I would know
That to dance with the devil is quite a sad thing
But quite another to cheat angels out of their wings
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