“Would Any of Your Friends Enjoy Adultery?”

Ace Boggess

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Something to be said for unfamiliar hands,
lips angled along a different path,
scents not like the Irish Spring,
lavender oil, or vanilla you recognize
coming from another room.
Would you seek the knowledge of it
like falling through a thousand sub-links
starting from one on a Wikipedia page
about Lord Byron, say, or Gary Kasparov?
I imagine the hope feels better than the orgasm.
I imagine new sounds of laughter.
Yesterday, I posted this question on Facebook
after it flashed unexpectedly like flirtation,
but my friends, I suspect, were afraid to click Like
lest someone think they wanted more.
Maybe in their quiet neighborhoods,
their houses had no doors; just
porch steps & welcome mats,
Van Morrison crooning from a stereo upstairs,
his voice reaching sidewalks, streets, &
passersby who stare down at their feet.