There is a woman in my bed
A fine beauty, sleeping with grace
I only knew of her about seven hours ago
Her name escapes me at times
Could it be Sam?
No, it’s Kate.
I approached her like all my conquests
Start with the nice guy acts
Spout a few inquiries to her
Rope them in with flirtatious wit
Dry sarcasm and harmless innuendos
They look for a hand to hold
And I give it
We go back to my place, me and Kate
Sip on some wine
Flirt back and forth; a cat-and-mouse chase
Bring ourselves closer for a drunken kiss
Lay her down and she asks for love.
“You need to rest for a sober morn.”
And she sleeps the night away while I
Drink looking out the window in passionless mourn.