Lady Marlboro

I love to hold her paper thing gingers
and watch the fire play across her red hair.
Her kiss slips past my lips, and lingers,
drip to my lungs, and she smiles,
pretty face bare.

I have her every morning and every night
and pass her among my friends.
Her slither sends sin, seduced by godly light.
She's a cowboy killer, a means to ends.

I lover dearly,
my lady lust.
She kills me, nearly.
A daily must.

Her pardon and embrace ignite.
No matter how I leave her,
droppped on the curb,
rubbed in the grass,
she'll gladly take me back.
My loyal, lady love.