Sir,
I never want to see your face,
as I am afraid of my own guilt.
For a year, your wife and I
shared a bed, sometimes
yours. Once, I could hide
behind my innocence or your
wife�s beauty, but both
are now gone. I was the most recent
(but certainly not the only)
elixir she tasted to fight off
her own fears. Perhaps she
thought that I could infuse
her with new life and I know
I tried. I tried to be forty,
calculating and precise and
she tried to be what she remembered
to be twenty. We each fooled
ourselves and maybe even
each other, but not for long.
I couldn�t deny the monotone
chant of my conscience. I know you are
as much older than she
as she is to me. Does she do for you
what I did for her?
I want you to know the facts
to allow you to decide on your own truths.
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