Voyeuse

sighs and soft skin
wrapped afternoons
can i speak of satisfactions with you?
once claimed
once given
once turned aside by moral considerations
still lingering
your voice says it all
notions
unshakeable principles
strawmen reduced to chaff
by more natural inclinations
yet you're happy to be my confessor?
my speech moves something
inside you
lingering like a voyeuse
refusing nature with glances
head cocked twinkling eyes
you lick your lips
preferring ideas to
the real
(a religious rejection)

it will be too late
but not for regrets