by Dee Newman
There, on Brighton, as the foreplay began, I thought . . .
This is only the prologue, the start of it.
As we talked I became aware of being caught
Up in her life, of becoming a part of it.
In reality our lives were merely crossing
Paths. She was in need of compassion and comfort –
Certainly not some unrestrained and exhausting
Affair, disguised in part as impassioned support.
Later, as the evening’s twilight began to fade
Within that second floor apartment on Acklen Park,
A promise made earlier that day was betrayed,
As dreams mixed with desire there in the dark.
Perhaps, if I had not been so impetuous,
So young and wild and free,
And she had not been so lovely and sensuous
Good friends, we would still be.