DARK IMAGINATION

The air was thick with heat that lingered long after the sun went down.
The club felt like soft leather and sweat in a haze of sweet patchouli. A kaleidoscope of dancers swirled from ribbons dangling from the mezzanine. In a desert filled with blooming roses, there was one pulsing beat.

A seduction, like quicksand. A labyrinth of mind games. A masked figure who beckoned with easy smoke rings and lashes. Lips that tasted of black plum, skin that burned like fire. It was maybe love, maybe madness. Maybe a hazy figment of a dark imagination.

They stood against a black wall — or red. A waking dream, or maybe dreaming in hopes they were awake.