Midnight Aubade

Sonnet

We meet at a bar, nothing magical.

No one here knows your name, not even me.

But I want more than a few syllables,

Much rather strange, dingy sheets and dimly

Lit bedrooms.  For now, doesn’t take much talk,

I’ve perfected the art.  I’m getting you

Home tonight. What’s next isn’t a real shock,

Lackluster passion, another in queue.

But you are inviting, not many compare.

Still, I’ll lie, say it was nothing to leave �"

I could love more than the bed we share.

Yet, I dress in the dark with practiced ease.

            I’m sorry I couldn’t stay any longer,

            But one night is all I care to offer.