Milder than the sweet reek of the perfume.
Devoid of the memories of the night
He wakes up beside someone unknown.
The entangled sheet, the heavy head
Fail to surrender the story they behold.
Ask him not of love,
For now his solace lies in the newness of every night,
A new touch, a new sight.
During the moments of love and pleasures
Many plead him for cash.
Which readily he offers
As they mean nothing to him but a stash.
In a night no different,
In the pleasures no new,
She dares to dig his past today
To discover the pains he knew.
Ask him not of love now,
For now he’s in love.
In nights so silent and moments that please.
He sits down with her and writes poems like these.