Secret loves

According to mafia/crime boss movies, it’s a natural part of married life to have a mistress. She the exciting one who makes you feel alive, your wife is the paragon of virtue and loving mother to the next generation, who perhaps doesn’t understand the real you.

I have a mistress, and this is the poem she inspired.

I feel alive with her 

My mistress is a hard lover 

And hard to love. 

Yet she stirs in my veins like no other, 

Bringing a wild smile to my face 

That makes others blush. 

She does not have a gentle pace: 

When her mood is high 

She pushes me away and pulls me in, 

Directions I cannot deny. 

When my hair was long she would throw it in my face, 

As she laughed loudly into my ear 

Occupying every sacred place 

Until all I could hear was her. 

The taste of her salt on my tongue 

Feeling nothing but her. 

When I cut my hair short 

She left me with total disregard. 

And against the pining I fought, 

But everything was suspended in frozen time 

Until she blew back in 

Destroying any calmness that she could find. 

I know that others don’t see her the way I do, 

They don’t understand her nature, 

And I don’t care that I am one of the few. 

Her elemental forces make me feel alive and free: 

I am bound to her, 

My mistress, the Wellington Breeze.