Meeting Mrs Potiphar

Truer than I’d care to admit. It’s from my book.


She devised a meeting ‘just as friends’
For evening drinks in her favourite bar.
(Soigné and the food is good)
Her finely plaited ribboned hair
Smelled of woody sandalwood.
 
She said I had to walk her home,
“There are dangers lurking everywhere.”
She strode the cycle track route back –
I trotted behind, just keeping up.
 
In a shadow space between lamps’ light
She turned and kissed me unexpectedly,
Filling my mouth with a probing tongue
Then drawing back,
Brushing long black hair from her cheek
Bashfully dipped her eyes and simpered,
“I love you… “
 
The loveliest woman I had ever seen –
This stunning creature loved me?
I looked into her eyes.
I drowned in her eyes…
I was hooked.
 
Not mother, not wife,
Nobody, outside coital ecstasy,
Had ever said that to me,
“I love you.”

 

Three words were all it took –
I was hooked.
 
Like Joseph from Potiphar’s wife
I should have run away
I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!
But I was hooked.
 
We kissed again at path’s end.
I to my solitary home alone and
She to her (‘estranged’) husband returned.
 
Feeding the insatiable worm within with
Our very selves – our souls.
We feasted on each other,
Anywhere feasible and sometimes not.
 
Making love in seedy hotels and B&Bs,
Or when overcome by urgency
Knee-trembling in dingy alleyways.
 
Caprine coupling, deep in a bush
Beside the Cleveland Way
A group of seal spotters rambled by,
Their interest was out at sea
They missed more than bobbing heads that day.
 
I gave my heart willingly.
She displayed it publicly
Displaying it like an enemy head staked on a city wall
Holding it aloft – a Burns’ Night haggis on a silver charger,
To be lauded, sliced, chewed and excreted.
 
She said I was her sunny day
She said her heart was mine too,
But that was “strictly entre nous.”
No one must ever know,
Especially not ‘the estranged,’
“There was nothing to be gained.”
 
My three best moves soon cut no mustard
The frisson flattened, and frustrated
She sauntered off hunting another
To feed the worm within
While keeping my heart
Closeted, festering.
 
I begged her to return it,
“Give it back to me. Let me have it. Please.”
 
“It is not yours now – you gave it willingly.”
 
Showing pity like banqueting nobility
Tossing a bone to a hungry hound
She threw a heart piece to the ground
Nudged it to me with her shoe.
“That’s enough… it’ll do… for you.”
 
Unlike devoted long-married couples,
Conjoined souls who die in swift order
The second before the first is even cold
Life is never complete for the young
With a busted soul and half a heart
Who are denied swift easy passing –
The release the sweet,
Gentle ‘good night’ brings.
 
The wages of sin ain’t death but a torment far worse
 
Long life with unquenchable thirst.

 

© coolhermit 2020
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Sweetwater

Well, this was better and more captivating than some stories I’ve read in books. It had everything. I even giggled at the seal watching incident.
Over it all though hung a banner of loss and longing. Sue.

Andrea

Living lives of quiet desperation, eh?

Andrea

Ah, indeed – you’re all the bloody same, eh? 🙂

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