The first touch was a sweet gesture,

a night approaching as shift set in,

and there I was to pick you up and

drop

you off.

 

We met before,

but this was classic ‘me,’

and I was the gentleman,

the scholar,

and the saint.

 

I did it to help,

but there we were just

a few weeks later

with you bent over the desk

in your spare room

with your roommates fast asleep.

 

The saint is the sinner

and the hero plays the villain too,

but neither of us will regret the memory,

or the company in the

badlands.