Rendezvous

Steal away with me, fly from your grimy old bed;
Let my arm lift to steady your hesitant head.
Of all of your cousins prostrate in my sight,
Yours is the hand I have grasped for tonight.

You're quiet, demure as we pass through the street.
You lean on my arm as you shuffle your feet.
Then, down by the river, the moment just right,
I kiss your lips, cold with the dead of the night.

Our passion completed, I finally rise,
And lift you up gently, my delicate prize;
Sneak you to your home as the sky becomes light;
Retire to my bed to await the next night.