They arrive at the Pub in separate cars
Two laptops and overnight bags
Just back from some conference
They're a pair of Suits
With very shallow roots
Away from the eyes of surveillance
They sit far too closely
They're not married, at least, not to each other
That much is plain
Rapt in their fervour of illicit actions
Whilst onlookers try not to stare
Or mentally apportion blame
One is tearfully looking for an answer
Whilst I suspect the other doesn't want a stir
It's his only selfish care
It's a fling, a liaison....an affair!
There'll be a backlash to this
Momentary snatched dare
Lust is not Love
Although, I kid you not
Some may call it mature
Lust is the killer emotion
Driving the madness moments
Planning for that non-existence future
The intensity addles the brain
There's no rationale
The only goal is to meet next week...Oo! the lust!
Look at all the deceitful excuses
The mental abuses
Nought can cure this breach of trust
Tomorrow will look back
Severely judging
That which couldn't be smudged
Hardship will follow loneliness
Loneliness will follow tears
Tears will follow contempt and grudge
These are the traits left behind by lust
It touches the unsuspecting
The thriller turned killer, black and bleak
He checks his watch
Soon they will separate, back to their lives of lies
Their quelled desire in knots, cheats!
So to the long passionate embrace goodbye
Two scandalous people
Alone, in this secret crowded space
They've crossed the invisible line
Now they're leaving
Hoping to slot into normal....but there's always a detectible trace!
©Kris Prevel
June 2015
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