The Noble Thief

Sun's dying rays through the blinds found their way,
Dusk's fiery glow warming their embrace;
Simmering passion boiled over carefully nurtured restraint,
Unleashing desires thus far, tamed.

She was no Queen, and he no King,
Lust was their ruler and they kneeled;
Grey souls they were, kidding themselves of chastity in acts damned,
For boundaries shattered the second their bodies entwined.

Their eyes met: his melting brown,
Hers blazing with wantonness newfound;
His seasoned lips descended upon her tender ones,
Like Dawn kissing fresh Dew on young grass.
They gave in, they held back;
Each living a fantasy in subjective truth.

The spring back in her step, a naughty sparkle relit her broody eyes,
The Thief had stolen her fears, emboldened her to face her clandestine desires;
Robbed her of a dark, lonely void,
Unearthing warm passion she'd buried deep inside.

In irony they found their magic,
In intimacy they discovered solace;
They loved in stolen minutes,
Neither ghosts of bygone nor misgivings of yonder, dousing their impetuous fires.


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