Simple relations

by Mark

By all accounts
she was a whore
of Parisian variety.
Gracefully she, sissonne
through crowds
always fulfilling
her lecherous wants
Yet I did not care.
All I felt was a
Longing for her
Lassoing my legs
Praying for  a
Quick dance lasting
Longer than I do. 
And I knew I wasn’t
The 1st to visit
But the past
Has noting to do
With the present.
So we loved
As we were firsts
Believing we’d be
The last. Yet our
Sense told us
That was
Untrue too.

Mark J Blu