Neither Shame Nor Sorrow

In a shocking criminal conspiracy
mandated by lust and greed we two lovers
of otherwise irreproachable repute made a
shameless pact to become criminal deviants.
I, the Eve to his Adam, the fruit of my
desire lay within temptation's reach; we
sternly tasked by evil intent to grasp the
object and make it ours.  Mine, and of
course, his also.  In the grip of a feverish
intent to commit the unthinkable, with
scant thought to morals, much less civil
responsibility, I played Bonnie, scoping out
exit and entrance while my Clyde swiftly
secured the journal, ripped out the 
ever-so-entrancing page, folded, pocketed it
with a professionally swift deftness that 
filled my palpitating heart with pride, and
we departed the scene of the crime.  The
coveted recipe now mine, I set about to
bake those delectable, giant coconut-lime
cupcakes with white chocolate frosting,
and they were indeed sublime.  That 
purloined page sufficient unto the day, we
jointly delectated over the toothsome
morsels - secret, covert act - of our sin.