Such Sweet Sorrow
With passions past, the fever’s broken;
Phone’s unanswered, words unspoken;
Snide asides, accusing hisses-
The sentence served for stolen kisses.
Vinegar eyes from too much wine,
I took and loved what wasn’t mine
Her night late call: “Where have you been?”
The end of the affair’s the greater sin.
Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2006
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