His presence here was unwanted and unwelcome,
His morals an affront to everything she believed in,
But like the dark matter at the heart of a poisoned wound,
There was also that kernel of self-knowledge that raked her pride,
And refused to be locked away and forgotten.
To have looked into the sensuality of his face,
To have witnessed the manner in which that he had flaunted that sensuality mockingly in front of her.
Like a sword plunged straight through her heart,
There had been that lightning surge of desire.
It had burned a brand of searing mark,
And the embers had never fully cooled.
He had been able to get under her skin and into her heart,
Where it shall never leave for all eternity.
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