Midnight Delight

At twelve this ends
Our midnight delight
Where we flirt with getting caught
And danger
And each other.

We’re
Much too old for this
But
Much too fond of this
To let Time grab our wrists
Pull us away from the
Chain-smoking, binge-drinking
Secret-talking.
Our validated bliss.

He is inconsequential;
She is not enough.
We
Are always needing something else.
We wait for our midnight delight
Each night
Before guilt sets in
And we head home
With someone else.

Then longing comes.