Through a series of events,
they secluded to her private chambers.

Alone,
within the comforting confides
of her bedroom,

her sanctuary,

they stood,
on the side of her unmade bed;
sheets and pillows strewn about.

Smiling,
she peered into his eyes, deep into his soul.

She asked,

“Is that where you want me?”

That question reverberated within his mind;
causing the kind of stir
that would ignite ten thousand poems,
drawings,
and other devotions. 

His heart began to beat. 
Thoughts began to race.

Thoughts of:

the temptations of the flesh,

the sins of man,

and carnal desires. 

His breath became shallow and quickened. 
With a heating forehead,
he turned
and took her by the hand
which sparked at the touch. 

Their blue eyes locked,
emitting a consensus of longing and passion.

“If I were to have you now…” He began.

Her breath paused.

“If I were to have you now,
it would be ill fated. 
I do not deserve your tender touch
or even your heart’s thoughts…
I cannot take what I did not earn,
and I refuse to allow
lustful temptation into my heart.” 

His head hung low,
hand retracting,
relinquishing hers;
turning away to leave.

She exclaimed,

“I offer myself, yet you refuse me? 
What a high horse you ride… 
Never before have I been,
the one turned away. 

Truly you are a virtuous man,
or just an asshole.”

“Probably the latter.”

He left her and his human weakness behind.