His Discomfort

I am in its ransom and misery,
In pain I dream what I hope should be,
I kiss her to only kiss a guilty thought,
While she lives and tastes a life I cannot.

Numb of her scent but bitter to its thought
Her pleasure in my discomfort is wrought,
She lives in my heart, not in the place she wishes,
Between my friends, close to what my love cherishes.

Selling herself cheap to my desires,
Hoping its price will keep a safe distance,
Instead a warm commitment it inspires
And I wake up to regret’s harsh sentence.