Messenger Moans

Was just to be a cyber hello on yahoo,

nothing intended or suggested,

unto that coworker in the next cubicle,

merely a few words of informality,

 using mere customary phrases.

 

But she mentioned her child’s sickness,

I spoke of my wife’s distance,

suddenly loneliness came up,

two lives trapped in sterilized dreams,

snared in box with a wedding ring.

 

Can’t recall what made the fingers type,

that provocative hint,

then shocked by her reply.

 

In the middle of the day

deadlines breathing on the neck,

our keyboard became our mattress,

words burned their desires,

faces growing red with lust,

sweat starting to form beads,

squirming in the seat

from the flames in images.

 

How she added those emoticons

the type on those adult sites,

was something I couldn’t say,

but the pure agony of craving steamed in the view.

 

What game we played,

intimacy to the raw level,

just to see which of us might groan out loud

and expose our secret.

 

Mind so lightheaded with the inferno created

hunger so in dire need of satisfaction,

afternoon spent simmering,

our spouses both surprised

why work had inspired

a ravenous gaze in greeting at home.