The dog was away with his eldest
so there was no scurry-to alarm
with her return after midnight
She ghosted down the hallway
to find him sober at his cold desk
pinned by weights of late designs
He met her bloodshot eyes to find
how well they answered his enquiry
about the evening out in Brighton
And then he let his other senses work
out her night’s eyed-up dialogues
and her lent-into clandestine touches
Did she taste of others’ tongues?
Had her lips had been scored by stubble?
Did her neck bear a robust cologne?
She awayed to bed and drunken sleep
as he shifted the aspect and constructs
of the lines of his worked-at scheme