The Affair

A lady stands in front of the window,

like she always does
and looks out at the street.


He is there,

quietly standing
under the streetlight.

A cliché.


She never wanted this to happen,
she didn't want to be trapped
inside the appartment,
trapped inside of her


love.


He breathes the cold, moist air
and lights a cigarette.

The tobacco leaves catches fire
slowly.

He
coughs.


She raises the glass and
drinks.

Bourbon burns her throat
but she doesn't care.

It's too early to complain
and too late to stop.

She watches him
smoking.


He looks up,

at the window.
A lady.

A lady so fine,
so delicate.

It's ages from his
last time.

Slowly he sucks the smoke in
and keeps his eyes up
at the lady.


She raises her hand
and takes a little cigar
from the purse
by the table

in front of the window.

She lights it
and blows a
thick smoke cloud.

As the smoke clears
she sights and opens

the window.


He throws the cigarette away
and crosses the street.

He takes the keys
she gave him
and opens the door.

She unlocks the
door leading to the appartment

sits down

at
the
lounge

and drinks.