She waits in velvet night,
Stockings whisper against steel,
High heels strike sparks on marble dreams,
A Bugatti hums beneath her throne.
Glass curves, engine roars,
She is danger dressed in silk,
A sniper’s gaze through polished scope,
Beauty sharpened into fire.
Not decadence, but radiant flame,
Hyper-feminine, untouchable,
Her glamour is a weapon,
Her silence — the loudest shot.
Femme Fatale in CIA Chrome
© Copyright: Руслан Трохнюк, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126022100841
Свидетельство о публикации №126022100841
Рецензии