In through the back door, on the couch.
The scent of jasmine and lilies – perfect.
Ice in the scotch chinked a tune.
Approached her on the balcony, unchecked.
My hand on her shoulder, she smiled back – a sign.
Eyes wandered to the fabric – divine.
Met my gaze, whet my thoughts – ardor.
Our drinks can wait, would her spouse? – torpor.
Before the fire, on the rug.
Yearnings caught fire in our veins.
Her shiver, her breathe, her sweat – glistening.
Dancing to the Howlin’ Wolf – prefect rhythm.
Thrust, unite, firm grip,
Ecstasy, procurement, bodies drip.
The ice melted, the jasmine slept,
My smell lingers on her, crept up in her bed
Backdoor alarm, time to go
Society asleep, blind, rooster crowing,
Only she will know.