Cuban Crisis

Cuban Crisis

She was pulled towards
the whiff of cigar smoke
in the still night air
Pungent yet sweet
it was magnetic
Luring her into the snare

He stood in a cloud
of the scented haze
enjoying his vice
She watched quietly
for a few moments
debating her own advice

She had pretended interest
in the Cuban cigar
knowing it would intrigue
He invited her easily
to step outside
But was she out of his league?

He was holding an object
in his outstretched hand
as she approached
Just as she had thought
a fat cigar for her
She knew she had been caught

He laughed at her look
She was an easy read
He had got her good
Men don’t want women
to smoke cigars
If only they understood

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Whiff

Object

Magnetic

Photo by Étienne Beauregard-Riverin on Unsplash