"You're doing
It again,"
She says,
Padding into
Her living
Room where
You lie naked
On her faded
Persian carpet,
"Giving yourself
Away."
Without thinking
You'd picked up
A copy of Byron
While she brewed
Herself a cuppa
In her tiny kitchen,
Greedily opening its
Battered cover-
Devouring the
Contents, to be
Hastily,
Needlessly,
Discarded
At her return.
She nudges
The book
Back towards you
With one
Small bare foot,
Saying
As the maples
Sing outside
In the rising wind,
"Don't let me
Interrupt
You two lovebirds."
You smirk
Up at her,
'Round an unlit fag
As the lace curtains
In her tall
Old-fashioned
Windows slowly
Billow.
She laughs
Over the rim
Of her delicate
Cup and saucer:
Pink rosebuds atop
Blue Willow,
Adding,
"You act
The bad boy,
Jailhouse rock-
Telling me
Without words,
Once upon a time,
You belonged
Somewhere-"
She kneels,
Straddling you
As the windows
Darken
In a mist of
Green and jasmine,
Removing your fag
While handing you
Her mismatched
Treasure,
"Where tea was
Served
Precisely at four,
And passionate
Words,
Forbidden
Pleasures."
Staring at her
You hold
Her gift untasted.
She tosses the fag
Aside,
Smiling at you
In feline silence…


Thunder rumbles,
You return
Her cup and saucer,
Leaning back,
Raped Byron
At your elbow,
Snarking,
"So what if I am,
Pet?"
Going down on you,
She whispers
Between sips
"None of us are
What we
Once were."
As the
First drops of an
Early morning
Thunderstorm
Fall
Heavily
To the
Ground.