My expectations take flight as we wonder through this once youthful and promising night. The only hope for a tomorrow comes with forbidden touch and a forbidden, connected sight. Longing for a quiet moment alone as your eyes slowly shift to meet mine. Connected hands pulling from considerable constrains as the clock gradually strikes nine. The world begins to slow as if to say there may not be another.  Or rather there may not be another one worth your passion now uncovered. Resurrected from our past as our softened minds are kept in a hazy check. By wondering eyes, unreciprocated passions, and friendly arm around our neck. And though instants stole in the shadow of the masses bring forbidden thoughts to light. Kinship to another uncovers doubt with a strong, unrelenting might. Unremitting hesitation as we’re forced to balance our duty and what we know as true. To those we brought to conquer the night and to our passions we wish to pursue. And as our night moves towards dawn we watch the other move along, towards a night of least resistance. With once promising passion now unwillingly forgone, and the other lost to the distance. Slowly awakening to our regret as the other does the same. Wondering if the night was different could our lust have been ours to claim. Would our desire to move beyond our duties have been made with worth and good intent. With others consent and no argument for the decisions we now circumvent. So with our train of thought chasing an end to our sorrow filled silence we search for just one more glance. Only to find remorse and a white flag waving reluctantly at our lost chance. And as the metal doors close on our promising night we wonder could this have been real. As I steal one more glance with the turning of the wheels putting miles towards our past so surreal. Hoping only for fate to smile again and give our passions a chance once more. Of a night filled with desire, lust, and affection that our destiny wishes to restore.