I can see him yet we’ve never met
The thought of the greeting is bringing me to sweat
I can hear him a voice on a phone line
Should I continue to, or decline?
We are miles away in different places
With only a photo to put names to faces
His dreams and aspirations he shares for now
Should I try to forget this somehow?
A responsible father a husband home alone
Somewhere in a room concealed in the zone
Trying to feed his humanity and family alike
Pen to paper, pencils to sketch movement in a passion
I can feel him and relate to his creativity
Is it an addiction or just sexual curiosity?
Two people lost in a web of life
One with a husband the other with a wife
Will they ever meet?
And sip the wine of deceit
The fear, the excitement of the possibilities
Falling into the arms of discreet liabilities
If we do