His face was like a clock that ran out of minutes, his voice like a car with a flat battery, but he had the touch of a virtuoso violinist and a smile that was honest, without flattery. She was a feline, a purring predator, her sharp fangs hidden behind a full pout; she radiated warmth as he stroked and petted her until he was well and truly caught like a mouse in a trap, a deer in the headlights, he was always at her beck and call. He spent the rest of his life of lonely nights praying for her to come home from the ball she was having on the money he gave her, her knight in armour, her susceptible saviour. Kim M. Russell, 24th April 2022
I can’t believe that this is the last Sunday of NaPoWriMo 2022 and there are only six days to go! The prompt today is to write a poem that uses one or more hard-boiled similes, if possible with an ironic or sarcastic tone, like Raymond Chandler. Image found on Wikipedia.