The door clicked quietly closed,
footsteps diminuendo, the vague
tweak of a fob, car coughing,
descending into silence.
They had feared the easy slide of
marital to martial, the
sour smell of jealousy, cock-feathers
flying in her hen-house.
Lying there, smeared, exhausted,
she sought and caught his hand,
his kiss, his sweaty embrace and
wanted more instead.
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)