Years of a bland marriage had ripened her.
Like a high class whore on a Saturday night,
she reeked of expensive perfume,
second guessing every grain of
good conscience within her.
Coppered hair reflected the fire she
was feeling, and
bronzed skin echoed the tone.
Gazing down at a much-too-red pedicure,
a dramatic emphasis to the berry fragrance,
her thoughts nestled in this stolen night of
romance, a promise finally consummated.
But passion that intense is not satisfied
overnight.