He was tempted outright.
She was warm and willing – and slightly stoned.
He had a jagged edge to himself
And wanted to bruise and chafe and play rough tonight.
She flirted and cooed and talked naughty.
He had driven her home from the party.
And now they were on the street beside her block
The street weary lamppost livened up as he sensed action from the jock.
She was out of the car and curled up to him; her finger running
Over his face and chin
He was smiling, edgy, raspy breathed
The street was empty; the night careened as if shot with gin.
“ Come to my parlour”
“Oh dear do”
He pulled her closer and was about to…
When all of a sudden, his embers cooled
“I can read her mind, and of all womankind”
A nameless weight bowed his heart
“ Just not right, Just not right”
He bundled her off in to her room
And swerved off the porch, his mind a-gloom.
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