She was my mistress,

flowing dress and pretty curls

Eye contact remained

as we negotiated the garden path

Her cheeks were blushed

her lips full and inviting

Her smile was purpose

her squeeze strong

As we reached the path's edge

she threw me one last glance

Watching as I fell

into an abyss of deceit

As the curtains of this tale

unashamedly collide

Avoid the poisoned invitation

to view the flowers of cuckoldry