Sepia Life

"I'll meet you by the punchbowl," she said
A southern belle arranging her first affair
The satin ball gown whispered disapproval
As she had the butler carry her husband
Up to bed
Rag-doll drunk

It seems the other guests plan to stay
She yawned and loudly noted it growing late
Then, two by two
The pickled crowd departed
And she found herself alone
With a young man
Letting him
Kiss her neck

We do what we have to
She thought
To color a sepia life
Give me that brush
Right now, I can only think in red

"I want you so," a desparate voice cried
"I never dreamed of wanting someone this much"
The satin ball gown hissed against his clutching
But she fluttered less and less
As he pinned her to the couch
Under him

We do what we have to, she thought
To color a sepia life
Give me that brush
Right now, I can only think in red

The ball gown sat in silent dismay
Two bodies bent, then flattened against the floor
Soon after, he was shown the back door

The carpet felt the same to her feet
No big thoughts as she quietly climbed the stairs
The satin ball gown muttered as she hung it
But she only heard the breath of her husband
Stutter in
Like a child's

We do what we have to, she sighed
To color a sepia life
She took his hand
And kissed the balding top of his head