Name' sake

Black lace traced,

With leathers hot embrace

Once done 

Now to be undone,

What he'd won.

Trying to make sense

Of this spinning vortex of chance

Of circumstance.

Deaths dealt dance,

Lost in a glance

A stabbing dart,

Straight through the heart

Modern and contemporary 

Is it still ?

But still not an art,

I wish to be . . . Apart

*Not to, at, about, or because of anyone - just freestyle poetry ?

Mornin peeps  ?? ☕️