Lindop, Grevel: After Baudelaire, ‘Les Bijoux’

Knowing just what I like, she keeps her jewels on
when she strips, so stone and metal gleam
and clash: she's slave and conqueror in one,
light and sound melting in a single dream.
She crouches, but won't let herself be loved,
fixing her gaze on mine, a tigress tamed
by lust and music, a body restless, moved
from pose to pose, erotic, unashamed,
that sleepy smile enhanced by her vermilion
lipgloss; the oiled mahogany other thighs,
her arms, her arse; an angel of destruction
with childlike candour radiant in her eyes —
until the song ends, and the red spotlights flood
her dark skin with a pulse that glows like blood.