Illicit lovers have always had more
Perceptions than the terms to translate these.
All language first serves functions that appease
Old-fashioned family values and deplores
The discourse of intercourse explored
Unfaithfully. Who do you call this squeeze?
The mouth will stumble on this noun and freeze,
Beloved infidels, whom words ignore.

What can we call illegal happiness?
It’s fire without witness, luck on a ledge,
Where sanity does not apply. I take
Your name inside where my guest thrives unblessed.
Thick scents won’t stick yet keep me wet, on edge.
Still undomesticated: buzz, rush, ache.