Avocational Confession
Kent V. Anderson | Miakoda Ohki
It was evening, just before midnight.
As a man of the alley, I made my rounds.
The yard was dark, somewhat wooded, yet easily accessible.
The house was lit, although not brightly.
My breathing quickened.
I peered through the window glass.
Aha, the woman was nearly naked and unaware of my presence.
She quickly became aware of both as I leaned forward and tapped on the window glass.
I proclaimed my love and deep admiration for her very being.
She was surprised by both my method and declaration.
Then, just as I had always hoped, this exceptional woman became receptive.
She went to the window, opened it, and beckoned me to approach.
Yet I, so bold up to now, was stricken with weakness and doubt.
My heart pounded, my legs quivered, as my resolution dissolved.
How could I, a lover of many, through so numerous of windows,
select this one woman, merely on the basis of her acceptance?
No. I would not spurn so many others, although their affection never expressed,
just to satisfy a single acquiescence.
Thus I turned away, in magnanimous gesture, and withdrew into the darkness.
I, so proud of my fortitude, and my trueness of heart.
