I took her anyway
In her ripeness
–triteness—
–lack of fitness –
With rolling gait she lumbered on
toward unseen bedless nights
in hoping
–coping—
Inter-loping angular spasms
not quite full of desire.
Time was a three ring circus,
She ate swords of fire.

I have to smile
At her trials
In questing
meanings and
nuances.

It ought not to offend
You nor
Your husband (
I don’t think)
If I admit
I never thought you
two
Would make love at night
and bear the face of the other
come
morning.
(Not that sex isn’t)
Universe-
ally
proper mind you but
my God
You’re so strange and
His old trysts left half-drunk tea-cups
And no lipstick trace on either.