An Affair

Really, just infidelity....

Little "us" beneath the stairs

Passing notes, the other knows not;

Our souls doubt, but our hearts bares

Secret, surreal urges we fought.

No one truly knows how hard we tried and try

Not to hurt the loved with us then.

We aren't  ourselves, addicts of of the high.

"This is too good to stop", our natural zen.

A connection of imperfect spirits; so full of "us"/dust

We forget the lives we have built

With them, the ones we truly trust.

"Us" is just a fainter breeze, yet exhiliarating.

We can't stop, even as reality is fading