[ CW ] Write a beautiful poem about something that disgusts you .

She looks at him, 
 
 he looks at her, 
 
 in each of them, 
 
 new urges stir. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Weary souls, 
 
 they've both become, 
 
 each on the road, 
 
 for far too long. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 We all need love, 
 
 or sometimes less, 
 
 just a touch, 
 
 or warm caress. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Their paths had crossed, 
 
 and wine now flows, 
 
 from friendly chat, 
 
 desire grows. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 His advance, 
 
 at first contested, 
 
 time ticks on, 
 
 her boundaries tested. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Jokes and booze, 
 
 he starts to find, 
 
 are perfect tools, 
 
 to change her mind. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 They slipped upstairs, 
 
 now clearly stumbling, 
 
 to his room, 
 
 and started fumbling. 
 
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 In the shadows, 
 
 moans were uttered, 
 
 and passionate, 
 
 clichés were muttered. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Deeper breaths, 
 
 and louder cries, 
 
 flesh on flesh, 
 
 is each their prize. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Climax! 
 
 They crumple in a heap, 
 
 and stupefied, 
 
 drift off to sleep. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Daylight breaks, 
 
 and they begin, 
 
 to see the manner, 
 
 of their sin. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 In each of them, 
 
 the morning rouses, 
 
 knowledge of, 
 
 cuckolded spouses. 
 
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 She looks at him, 
 
 with ample shame, 
 
 looks in the mirror, 
 
 feels the same. 
 
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 He shakes it off, 
 
 been here before, 
 
 collects his trousers, 
 
 from the floor. 
 
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 They then part ways, 
 
 mutely agree, 
 
 each swears to complete, 
 
 secrecy. 
 
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 Arriving home, 
 
 From their remisses, 
 
 they ’ re welcomed back, 
 
 with hugs and kisses 
 
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 That night they watch, 
 
 their partners sleeping, 
 
 while practicing, 
 
 their secret-keeping. 
 
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 In quiet spots, 
 
 they ’ ll try to reason, 
 
 what they did, 
 
 was hardly treason. 
 
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 Just because, 
 
 I strayed one time, 
 
 I can ’ t be punished, 
 
 for this crime. 
 
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 It happens, 
 
 all the time these days, 
 
 It ’ s not my fault, 
 
 ( in many ways ). 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 Genetics, nature, 
 
 society, 
 
 and alcohol, 
 
 to some degree. 
 
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 Think of my kids, 
 
 they ’ ll suffer too, 
 
 if I come clean, 
 
 ‘ What would you do? ’ 
 
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 No, just keep going, 
 
 with the show, 
 
 it ’ s for the best, 
 
 they never know.
