A casual glance, a gentle touch,
It stops at that, we know it must.
A chaste embrace, an offered cheek
which I dryly kiss and count it sweet.

Once we’d danced around a flame-
an older man, a willing maid.
Both comfortable in our own skin
In secret we began our sin.

I know your body like my wife’s
But she was elsewhere, I recall
Your husband, too, was on the road
When I, like Adam, had my fall.

We speak of nothings, jobs, careers,
Not of our existential fears.
Celebrity splits, Horrid crimes,
our ****** ever on our minds.

We dance like moths about a flame
which never must be lit again.
It stops at this, we know it must
a casual glance, a gentle touch.