The DJ’s wife
She was alone by the bar
in a crowded dance hall.
Wondering how a woman so pretty
could be in the company of loneliness,
I walked up to her
with smile so warm as blanket
in a cold winter night.
She initially looked stuck in her track;
later we went to the smoking room
sharing a stick and heartily chatting.
Then I pulled her close and kissed her
she held me affectionately and kissed me back.
The tenderness of her lips felt like magic
which made me wonder even more
how she hadn’t been taken.
When I proposed we meet again
she smiled and politely refused
for she had to go back in
where her husband, the DJ,
was playing the music
that had kept us all
on our feet all night.
I swear I didn’t know
she was the DJ’s wife
I would never mean to hurt
the source of such merriment.
Submitted for Thursday Poets Rally, Week 80.