My Love Affair With Poetry

Nights when I’m alone, Icy wind flittering through the window, The absent warmth of love echoing in my empty room, I have frequent love affairs with poetry. Its pulsating words gush themselves out on the white blank page, It caresses my every emotion, Sending me reeling through a torrent of multiple ecstasy, I scream with release as every unhinged secret is documented rhythmically, After, subdued by unthinkable shame, I stash it away with the refreshing slide of a closed drawer, I light up a cigarette and lie within the sheets like a film star, I am who I choose to be, Husband rings, why don’t I answer the phone? I’m having an affair with poetry.