The Affair

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He was on auto-pilot, busy

With a business affair, engaged

After work hours, pencil skirts

Slips and miss-slips, 

That often left her recounting 

Calendar days, from the business dinner

Meeting, that never exceeded past a minute late,

Never surpassed the afternoon valet rate,

Check balanced, with the alibi he told his wife.

Today's world catastrophe vacated offices,

Encouraging everyone to work from home,

Lingering around the ground floor,

Convinced it was too soon to head home,

Their rendezvous started sooner than ever before,

The trailing of the cars,  

No need to valet, okay to self-park,

A different air about the day, 

Leaving his phone in the glove compartment.

 

Her hair smelled fresher than 5 p.m.,

Her skin smelled sweeter than after lunch,

Her eyes looked a different color in daylight,

She seemed a different person, 

Just a little different, than the usual,

He noticed, but couldn't put his finger on it.

Then, the moment that he was dreading came,

She asked, What time are you going home?

Then, there was silence, 

He said, I don't know,

Then there was silence,

Maybe,

More silence, 

Tomorrow,

A dead silence.

Unexpectedly, she began to put on her clothes,

Said, Okay, but I can't stay, I have to go, 

I have to go home, 

She grabbed her purse and headed for the door,

He reached for his pants, looking for his phone,

He yelled, Hey do you know what time it is?

She turned around and said, I'm late,

Then, there was silence,

She walked out, and closed the door.

Another poem to read: I Think, He Love Me