In Secret

I perceive her as fire, not too smokey, But glossed enough to burn my desire Of illicit pleasure to fill empty pathways Isolated by glass, guarded by egg shells Only the waves know this rapture, Only the stars hear loud groans,moans. Although the warmth or heat is rented, My own misery or despair erased As her thighs waxes on mine, slow Then fast in the restless grind of hours; We take little drops of wine Before sunlight begins to rise over sheets Crumbled by dusky lust, maybe an ounce of love-- She, draped in mannequin's thin wrap Is delicate and tough with a heart Unavailable for constant ardor---how could Her past release all those silent wails? And while I button her second-hand dress Our next rendezvous is done, again--again The comfort of a lifeless marriage Allayed by the harlot of my nights. Controversial Contest---Charlotte Jade Puddifoot Sept 8, 2015