Yvette's Lover in the Afternoon

It began like a classic romance and became a heartbreak I still feel
A young officer falling desperately in love with an older woman

We first met when I came in your antique store in Saarbrücken that rainy autumn afternoon
Hoping to brush up on some French, not to fall in love

You were simply a ginger headed vision, drinking un cafe après midi
When your pouting lips first kissed Bonjour to me

Tall, tan and elegant you were quintessential French
That teetering of aloofness and friskiness that held me captivated in the lock of your blue eyes

After many, many visits we became friends
Then one afternoon, it progressed to lovers with soft kisses and tickling moist whispers

In a way, it was my own Summer of Forty-two
Just seductively French with lots of tricks, ligature and toys

Though I was not a boy, I was still so quite naive
As it were to turn out about a great many things

Still the romance was intoxicating, the sex pure exhilaration
I came to feel love like I had never felt before and, sadly, never since

Then came the night that I wish I could forget
After dinner for two and passionate lovemaking in the shower

Hearing the door open and alarming words of a Frenchman returning home to his wife
Paralyzed in the bathroom drying off with a towel as you left unashamed to greet him

Then, after awkward introductions relegated to the guest room
Lying awake staring at the ceiling as the tears flowed

Finally getting up in the middle of night and sneaking out silently
Driving home, crushed and embarassed, realizing I had only been Yvette's lover in the afternoon