nights like these
when you recoil from my touch
revulsion scored deep
excuse dog-eared primed ready to go
at page 53

I fear  

that I will never again enjoy
the needful tender embrace
of a woman while I am sill able
to offer back anything less than chaste

and in some lugubrious future
if taken to task about some
or other transgression past
your accusatory “why?” requires one simple reply
“do you really need to ask?”