The Courtship

It wasn’t supposed to last. Not in a meaningful way.

A desire for accompaniment.

No hidden agendas. Intentions were clear.

Exchanged glances across a crowded room. Hormonal origins.

Poetic?

Hah!

But not kismet.

Primal. Mutual.

She, my welcome succubus. I, her wild hare.

An eclectic ballet of carnal delight.

Throughout the night.

Morning came quickly.

I asked to stay. She smiled.

That was long ago.

We both smile, still.