The Twenty Year Affair
Our first real transgression
was in the park in the dark, on the grass.
Then later, on the floor
while my commitment slept
in the next room, snoring quietly
under her winter blankets.
Bottles of dry sherry
and drunken entanglements
cemented our progress
and we shacked up together
while she, whom I told I would love forever,
was at a funeral
in rainy Queensland.
We smiled in the evening
while she cried through the day.
The drama, like a Shakespearean play,
was intoxicating
and we stumbled around
like giddy children.
We married on a day
that cried in the morning
and smiled in the afternoon.
Your first transgression
was a dark night’s car drive away
and eighteen months later
you got married on a day
that smiled up the mountains
while I cried in the city.
Editors' award 2018 Zinewest Magazine
