The week has passed without respite the hole made large by encounter’s lack until at last the moment came to once again step away this rendezvous outside the lines drawn on the map to console uncaring souls who would condemn congregating to dance anew
to these ends the time has comes assignation to soothe the hearts loneliness swept aside as two gather to strut as one a glance confirms the mutual dual intents matched to meet a lack no longer will the craving burn when it’s fed for a song
the crowd of hundreds melts away no longer present in the room pushed by passion of the dalliance to the realms beyond desire stepping between the here and there a tryst completed without remorse what’s now sated will find repose until the same time comes again.
The poem “The Week” was prompted by the request to write a poem about a rendezvous, meeting, tryst, encounter, or hideout. The secret midnight assignation is made public by the poet’s hand. I turned to the world of social dancing to document such an encounter.