A SecretMature

He slides from the bed,

each creak of the floorboards

reverberates.

Each moment that he creeps

she could wake,

but he continues to move,

hoping she remains asleep.

He walks four blocks,

before calling a cab.

He whispers

into the phone,

the nervous tingle

unrelenting.

The gold band slips into his pocket,

as he knocks at Rose's door,

his siren of the night beckons him inside.

The light of the only lamp

shadowed by a purple shawl.

They never share many words

in these precious moments,

for their bodies fasten together

too tightly for words to escape.

Afterwards they break the silence,

whispering endlessly

like soul mates,

hands clasped together

as Rose plans their

daylight adventures.

At times Steven wonders

if Rose knows

he'll never leave his wife.

That he only loves the mystery,

their illicit secret. And if she does,

why she lets him in so easily,

her soft curves still smooth,

the roundness of her breasts

still high on her chest.

Her insides still sweet --

candy for the difficult child.

The End

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