We played along
You handed the cards
Set the rules
At stake were our hearts

Let the games begin
After one year
We watched the tables spin
Without any fear

They say good players don't play to win
But to grow and get better
But we both got stuck in sin
And instead of poems I write a scarlet letter
Written in the style of August 2017 when it all began. Inspired by Taylor Swift song Ready for It.

The definition of a scarlet letter is an identifying mark or brand placed on someone who has committed adultery. An example of a scarlet letter is the Puritan woman in Nathaniel Hawthorne's 1850 book The Scarlet Letter who cheated on her husband and had to wear a red A.
Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
Your eyes
are time capsules in my mind.
The memory of you there,
fingers lingering through my hair.
Begging me
to lock my lips with yours.
I posed from a distance,
sipping on my infidelity.
How it made its way
across your body
so meticulously,
imploring you to want me.
You asked,
but I didn't know what to say
so I just kissed you.
I still see you sometimes
in the peripherals of my mind,
though the contours of your face
are beginning to blur as they do
with any beautiful stranger.
I can't tell whether the image of us
is a painting or a picture:
something I've carefully constructed
or a moment merely manifested.
But I do know
that it was the blue in your eyes
and the white in my lie
that had me stay til dawn.
Sharon Talbot Jul 2018
I said it was not meant for me,
But what did I mean?
For any youth, any love,
Whose prey who might be,
On whom you’d lean,

In your semi-corseted skirt,
Or dressed full fig.,
Stalking into town,
Shocking men in wigs,
Luring them into false love,
As others had been?

Would you capture me,
Chaining my soul to your heart,
So I must carry on playing
At your command?
I see your dress under the piano,
And your boots and pantaloons;
The piano is not my voice,
Though you insist it is.

I shot a drunken man for you,
Which made me more your *****.
You woke urges I suppressed,
Too strong for one so frail.
With words you pushed me
But caused music to pour
From me as love did.

A storm of disapproval raged all round
Our Paris nest of love and art,
You came and went like a soldier, shielding us,
And at home you urged me on,
To impromptu inventions,
Yet causing us to depart.

Packed into a cabochon,
You shanghaied me,
Away to Majorca
And the wintry sea.
Your searing love and the island’s cold
Were too much for me,
And I escaped with my art.
This was inspired by the film "Impromptu", about the affair between Frederic Chopin and the writer, George Sand, or Armandine Aurore Lucille Dupin. She had many lovers, mostly other writers and artists. Her love for Chopin was excessive and she pursued him aggressively. Once they became lovers, she insisted that his illness (tuberculosis) was due to lack of activity and fresh air and kept luring him out of his little apartment. He supposedly had a duel with her latest lover, but fainted, George picked up his gun and shot the lover, not fatally. She convinced Chopin that it was he who had wounded the man, then overcome by his violence, he had passed out. This seemed to make him feel more manly and open to seeing himself as a ****** being and not just a frail ghost. She and Chopin were together for ten years, but when she took him to Majorca for a year, things did not go well and he left. Mind you, I'm talking about the film, not an actual event, though it may have happened.  Hugh Grant played Chopin and Judy Davis was a great George Sand.
LionTreeMan Jan 2018
Every time I saw you from across the room,
all I wanted to do was kiss you;
feel your lips against mine;
but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Your beauty called to me,
so unexpectedly,
but I couldn't bring myself to let the love transfer over;
to show you how deeply I felt.

So instead,
we became best friends.
We did everything together;
told each other everything.
We shared a different, rare kind of intimacy.
And, all the while, I felt constricted.
I felt my throat lock up
from the inability to share,
to show you.
I felt wrong,
like I wasn't supposed to.
Yet all I wanted to do was explore;
explore your body against mine;
explore us together,
as one.

And I'm sorry.
Sorry for the confusion,
sorry for the mixed emotions.
While we shared so much connection,
the huge questions mark lay across our relationship;
like a dilapidated bridge,
keeping me from crossing to the other side -
from holding you,
and kissing you.
From feeling the love we both shared, fully.

And I'm sorry that we drifted apart.
But, then again,
you are the one who disappeared from my life.
You are the one who didn't answer my calls.
Yet, I am still sorry;
for putting you in the middle of that dilapidated bridge;
for not allowing you in.

Maybe you had no choice
Maybe you felt rejected.
But I want to say thank you for giving me a chance.
Thank you for allowing me to feel comfortable -
as much as my mind allowed me to be, anyway.

When you disappeared it hurt.
But, after much reflection, I understand.
I understand why you had to go.

So, again, I'm sorry.
But just like you let me go,
it is now my turn to do the same.
Because it hurts,
and I don't want to hurt anymore.

Just know,
that I still think about those moments,
when holding myself back.
Seeing you across that living room,
all I wanted was to kiss you so bad;
to fully experience our unexpected love affair.

Thank you for opening my eyes.
I love you.
Within me you've inspired a new creation;
sparked a new passion
Ignited new words
once dormant
now burning with a purpose.
To tell the world
that I love you,
that I'm yours,
that you've stolen my heart
and bound me to your soul.
These words,
along with me,
are eternally yours.
Mia Wallace Sep 2017
I'm weathered and weary from shapes of greed
Their colors mislead me
I am naive
But I know eyes that taste
Without seeing
Now you know me, don't you?
But you are just waiting.

I am tired of this misinterpreted concept
I am tired of our tangled body's, this act between two that is only about you.
I'm tired of not being able to dance freely in fear of needy hands and sharp teeth
Pressuring possessiveness
Climb into your soul and off of my body
See that I am a creature of interrupted freedom
I will not answer to your hollow eyes
Your misconstrued ideas of love constructed by a society that forgot to feel
That forgot to see
That forgot that you are you and I am me

I will not answer to your hollow eyes
You are not welcome here.
Tommy Randell Sep 2017
I love how we chose the darkness
When all we had known was light
Giving ourselves up to the wrongness
Giving up being totally right

It's a category five storm nonetheless
A self-destructive and thrilling event
This affair of the heart in progress
Feeding our hunger for constant suspense

It is what it is I (hesitate to) suggest
We were a hurricane waiting to happen
But this biblical story of red wine and ***
Beats everything else Life is lacking

If it ever makes landfall in bitterness
If our Love tears this world at the seams
I will stand there in the ruins to happily confess
Yes, we were doomed to be Adam and Eve.
Julie Smith Jul 2017
Baby, don't look in my eyes
Or we'll have to pay the price
If the public finds out
What this is about
We can't come around here twice

Promise me this
Wherever you are think of our kiss
The last one behind the closed hotel door
And I won't ever forget the room on the third floor
Even if I'm just another name on your list

In the secret of the night you told me
With your soft voice that I could be
Your girlfriend anywhere but France
And I could feel your loving embrace
Who cares for France when you're the world to me?
A flashback to September and October last year with the touch of a new hope...
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