you
did not kiss her
when you touched her
the last time,
your entry
lacked finesse –
was more like your marriage,
cold, hard, familiar
inevitable, regrettable
but…
you held her,
wrists above her head,
hips cracking
manic
hard
bound
and again,
and again,
and again
you touched her,
that stranger,
walking by you,
you held her,
your eyes on her skirt,
her strong legs
your mind… and her
in a vice
as you
kissed her
Writer Moe 