Peep Show

The woman just across the street seems keen
To have me view her flitting in her kitchen
Without clothes. I have. I do. It's now
A little game. I check the window when it's
Six, and I am making coffee. There she is!
Oh, how she thrills me. If she has a husband,
He's not seen. My wife, most days, is not
Awake. I watch her in her negligee. I watch
Her, knowing that she knows I do. I think
That she is pleased. The years come fast,
And spouses lose their ardor. Here, across
The way, a man still hungers after her,
And, after children, after all these years
Trapped in a cubicle, the woman putting on
Her show, and I, appreciating it, are almost
Lovers, close enough to sense each other's
Lust, but far enough apart to spare ourselves
Embarrassment or pain.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2019-12-28 at 10:37

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