Infatuation

If unspoken desires were flames

I would be but a pile of smoldering ashes

My smoke ascending into the skies

of imagined and fantasized possibilities

that will never come to fruition

Dying embers of unrealistic hope pulsating

feeding on nonexistent confessions

of the moment when

our true lies could be revealed

We are prisoners locked in the cells

of the dire consequences

that would be ours to bare

if we were ever set free

to say what we truly think

to act as we truly feel

So, we are resigned to being thieves

cunningly stealing glances

from quickly shifting eyes

Eyes pretending that they are not

accessories to this crime of betrayal

that has yet to be perpetrated

No one knows better than I

how the mind can manufacture thoughts

 of how deviously sweet

the taste of forbidden fruit can be

How picture perfect and realistic

 imagery of us engulfed

within insatiable acts of lust could be

My eyes looking into your without

the haunting thought of reprisal

Our flesh unleashing us from

all burden of guilt

The taste, the sensations, the smells

the pure adrenaline charge

of giving in to the temptation

of illicit acts

Acts that can be no more than

thoughts of

Infatuation

The Nxt LeveL

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