Thoughts On Our Affair

Authors note: I’ve been asked if I ever write poems that rhyme. I don’t often, as its not my preference, but I can. Here’s an example. This is a fun one to read out loud. And for those who take issue with my short lines and the length of the piece on the page, it’s not about the size, it’s about the rhythm. 😏

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When you leave
the warmth of
my body,
my bed
and return to
your life and
your bed with
your wife and
you’re wrapped up
around her
two spoons
in a drawer,
I wonder sometimes
if I’m nothing more
than your way to
have fun,
your outlet,
your whore.
Or if you imagine
it’s me still
up against you
like hours before.
Or if being away
from the scent
of my skin
instantly changes
the mood
you were in
as you focus on
Her.
I can’t begin
to compete
with a life
so complete
with your kids
and your home
and your wife
and your dog
and your cat.
Maybe I’m just
your fuck toy,
nothing other
than that.
So why should
I care
if it’s her
with you there?
You’re the one
who should worry,
you left in a hurry,
the scent of my
pussy still sweet
on your lips the
marks from my nails
still deep
in your hips.
It’s only a matter of
time till we’re caught.
My time with you
is stolen,
not earned,
and not bought.
So you have a good time
as you lie there pretending
what you have with her is
not ended or ending and
don’t worry ‘bout me
all alone in my bed
just clean my spit
off your cock
before she
gives you head.
Oh wait.
That won’t happen.
‘Cause she doesn’t do it.
Bet you can’t remember
the last time she blew it.
Remind me the other things
she doesn’t do?
Yeah I thought so.
Don’t worry, babe,
I’ll do them too.
And that’s how I know
that I’ll see you again.
Because you can’t resist
the taste
of our sins.