Unadulterated passion with a tinge of shame,
As I thought of her perfection,
how round and sacred it could be
without navy blue polos.
Her wisdom a map of knowledge
cracked her face.
Progeny long since bloating a perfect vessel.
Her wrists creak from clocked in hours,
and cornstalk hair rustling as fall.
I tried to usher in restraint--
cease my rambling desires.
We're both married happily--
WHY THE HELL NOT?
I swim in my shame.
But he too sees the fate of our tender eyes interlocking.
I entertain it. Embrace it.
Knowing she puts on a spark and smile as mine fall into dirty laundry.
I begin the obsession,
her name strangles my mind.
Each scan on the floor beckons me to her.
Each flurry, passing badge, reckons with my mind.
To love or to lust-- that is the question.