Summer settles into
a humid routine,
punctuated by evening
rumbles of thunder,
heralding the steady
downpour of tropical climates.
I watch you slide into
a chaise lounge at the
edge of a pool,
your face shaded
under a wide straw brim,
your eyes behind wayfarers.
Camouflage suits you
and your traitorous thoughts.
She sidles over to the
nearest chair,
similarly hidden from view,
barely clothed,
slick with sheik.
Those who believe you
are hunched behind
the wall of your cubicle
are openly expectant of
your clear and honest intent.
They will be permanently
disappointed.
Categories: Poetry