THE ETERNAL QUADRANGLE
The second look she gives Steve at the dance,
upsets me far more than the two weeks she
and husband Geoff will spend away in France:
the tired routine of their love-making,
acceptable to me, the maths of marriage
elementary, non-troubling.
But one look brings me sharp, unwelcome pain,
the tension ratchets to a tipping point,
and days become unbearable, insane;
a triangle has turned into a quad:
two angles made acute by sex and love,
two obtuse angles: me - and Geoff, poor sod.
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