Sunday, 16 December 2012

An Indiscretion


An Indiscretion 

The room is unfamiliar and so are
the minutiae of etiquette here.
For neither of them has been here before. 

It’s not as awkward as one might think, though,
to linger on buttons being undone
inside an ecstatic, unworldly calm. 

The vertigo of zips in slow motion,
the dazzle of such ordinary flesh,
are choreography you don’t mention 

while all the time it seems to be going
at least as well as could be expected.
And, having achieved the necessary 

standard of detachment and disarray,
they put each other back how they found them
close enough to what they’ll get away with.