Jezebel, a mere colorful figure, has an array of different mannerisms one might view as questionable.
Chain-smoking clove cigarettes, she sits on her porch painting a discolored face. The cheekbones are long with a narrow distinction as the brushstrokes graced with serenity. Her music plays exquisite and loud in the background of her New York apartment. Her room is only two colors, a stained gray looking white and a dim shade of the merry color black, and no colors lie between. An ancient Mary Magdalene painting blesses the corner and is  surrounded by candles. It's hard to imagine her carpet once bared the color white as it is now kissed by cigarette butts and an endless  blend of ashes.
    Today she stands sure and tall dressed in a green satin robe which is open and bares her naked body.
Her hair is shoulder length and cupped close to her chin as it blends in with her black eyes. Her face represents androgyny and is a curvy figure. Her sexuality is discreet and only yearns for a good fuck. Although, females are more consistent these days. "Males are a two second thing" her deep smoker's voice says in between drags.
The cigarette is now flicked angrily on the floor just by the old ouija board passed down to her by her mother. Jezebel is searching for a phone number..... "Jesus Fuck, where is her number"....