The accidental chimes of spoons against wine flutes.
A tearful farewell embrace, the children unwrapping gifts
in another room, bright with greenery and crystal
and the aftermath of a gutted piñata.
The confusion of the watchdog goes unnoticed.
He paws blindly at the door of the locked closet.
In the darkness of hanging furs and body-length scarves,
the adulterous embrace thrusts towards its stifled conclusion.
What joy is so quiet, so like the joy of living lips,
brushing together for the last time?