saraafarmer
So she won’t forget
why she left
No other time
was she more
willingly proffered
than when her bare breasts
were pressed
against his bare chest,
arms around his neck,
mouths brushing,
barely open,
breathing each other’s breath,
eyes unfocused
for their proximity.
How could he trade her
for a trick?
For a quick.
For a quivering
moment
of nothing that lasts.