Guilt
He was paving over the cracks
She wore black underwear
The night was grey
Her nipples came alive under the soft, silky material
And for a time, he was lost in lust
She liked married men
They had wives to go home to
He was fighting guilt and pleasure
Mostly, he was fighting himself
She watched him go
Men and their women, she thought
Money was her man
Plain and simple
The drive home was guilt in miles
Quietly opening the door
Slipping into bed with his beautiful wife
His beautiful untouchable wife.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2025
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