Meeting

I was in that decision place,

Of whether one glass was enough,

When we started in that sparky argument type banter. 

The type that seems to either turn a man on,

Or piss him off. 

At first, you could see. 

He was wobbling between the two  

By the close of the bar,

He was at the former. 

I only realised when the bar closed. 

I could tell he didn't want to leave. 

Or, at least he didn't want to leave without me. 

He suggested we take a walk. 

He was smart, funny, arrogant and respectful. 

He was also a little drunk, but then so was I. 

He sent an email so empassioned, 

I wish my boss hadn't seen it,  

And I took his flowers with me to Boston.