Short Skirt, Big Trouble

The skirt is short, that daring cut Caught my eye and shook me up. Something wicked took control, Fingers tracing down your soul. We don’t need a stage tonight, No neon pole, no flashing lights. Just your skin against my skin, Let the trouble pull us in. Close your eyes, let the night begin, What a strange place love can land us in. Started sweet, all hearts and charm, Now you’re sugar setting off alarms. No more wrappers, no disguise, I can read it in your eyes. The zipper falls, your heels unwind, Shoes are dancing room to room tonight. Your back curves like a crescent moon, There’s a little devil in the room. Fire is rising, the kettle screams, You called my name, I entered your dreams. Your lips are red, your skin is marked, We leave our fingerprints in the dark. Love’s an art on a bedsheet white, Painted in shadows, color, and light. You fall asleep, but I stay awake, Counting every breath you take. The heat comes back, a second wave, I move like a thief, quiet and brave. Morning comes with a teasing smile, We talk like nothing happened for a while. Then we walk out under open skies, Thank the weather for our alibis. And right beside us, sharp and bright, That daring cut catches the light. The story starts where the night began: A short little skirt and a dangerous plan.