Kiss-proof (Poetry)

A table on the terrace, violins
manipulate with sentimental strings
the couple in their candlelit cocoon,
enchanted by the night's seductive tune.

Her cheeks rose-flushed, her creamy shoulders bare,
she blows a kiss that burns the balmy air,
their glances lock, the promise is devine:
he smiles and pours another glass of wine.

His blood is hot, his passion on the boil,
(she toys with salad lightly tossed in oil)
he watches as her pearly canines sink
into a near-raw steak that dribbles pink.

She licks her lips, anticipates l'amour,
observes his pulsing neck, his hungry jaw -
a view the flowers partially eclipse
as he swallows snails in garlic butter dipped.

Beneath the table four impatient feet
get physical - explicit but discreet -
she rubs a cool stiletto down his shin,
winks tipsily and gives a toothy grin -

the invitation naked in her eyes
and confident her femme fatale disguise
will lure him - eager lamb to slaughter led
by visions of her warm and wanton bed.

He pays the bill, they stroll beneath the moon -
he kisses her, she falls into a swoon,
expiring in his arms - a speedy death -
asphyxiated by his pungeant breath.

Pure poison to the vampire - garlic's smell
transports her black conniving soul to Hell
where, languishing, she wishes she'd forseen
the lethal side effects of french cuisine.