Feeble fatal feat

one of grandiose gamboling

and feverish fealty.

I curse not the day

nor the deviant way

in which it came.

Torrid tawdry treat

one of lascivious leavening

and tantalizing treachery.

'Twas not to be spoken

my slot and his token

with which we played.

He told of love,

I sighed with lust

a game we all know dear.

A heartfelt stare,

a gasp for air

and then a quick release.

I took him whole,

he took my soul

and now it is all clear.

A childish phase,

a wanton gaze

and off with the disease.