She’s the lady in red,
Sitting cross-legged, her adventures outlined on my bed.
Neither a fabric nor a thread;
Bare her body, soaring dreams in her head
Curls reckless in black brush her cheeks, then to her shoulders they fled.
Her breasts hold the charm of a newly-wed
Inhibitions she shred;
Covered waist down in silk, many men astray she led;
Her eyes, ah the exquisite charm of the dead
Engulfed in smoke, cigarette between her fingers intricately held,
Kissing her lips draped in scarlet red
Heavens, she’s a maiden in red!