She tried to remain strong
in the face of his passion
his need for fusion
his poisoned needle seeking undue insertion.

She sought to stay unstickable.
“Come on,” he said, “Let’s.”
“Will you love me tomorrow?”
she asked.

“I swear,” he replied,
“I’ll love you ‘til the end of time.”

She somehow doubted him.
“You mean everything,” he begged,
“at this moment.”

She considered.
He pleaded.
He cajoled.
He asked this way and that,
pressing his point,
never stopping his barrage.

She did not break
but she did bend
and finally,
leaned in.