Forbidden

A narrative poem

Like a whirlwind,

moving with a quiet embrace,

something ethereal and undefined

about Jessie's nicely kept hair; her

stunning blue eyes with glints of green.

Her most striking feature, however

was the way she looked up at Matt–-

not seductive, but uniquely playful.



They talked daily, hours on end,

time bleeding into priorities. 

From the start, they were drawn 

to each other. Like childhood friends,

conversations came easily, never stilted or dead.


Like polar opposites, their actions 

were wrong. They knew that.

What they were doing was taboo, even

forbidden in the confines of a marriage. 




It wasn't an affair.

They hadn't slept together or

done anything scandalous.

They cared about each other deeply,

expressing how they made each other feel.

But the heart has its own desires, doesn't it?


Matt couldn't tell his wife, and Jessie 

didn't want him to. She couldn't abide by that.

Their mutual secretiveness solidified their sins. 


They kept going, unable to stop, knowing

that part of their obstinance and selfishness

was born of the thrill of keeping 

his wife ignorant. Of keeping secrets.


In pitch blackness, they whispered to each other

their hopes and dreams, desires and needs.

Meanwhile, Matt grew increasingly absent 

from his wife and family, their communication 

at a standstill. 


In due time, he would leave her for Jessie.

They knew that.