Her name was Glydel

Her name is Glydel.

She works as massage attendant at SF.

We first met, me as a her guest.

She is fine woman of 24 years.

At a glance, I know her kindness within.

But a skin-deep anger shimmers.

She touched me as if we were  lovers.

For I responded, with gentleness,  and  grace.

She touched me as if we were lovers,

For I responded, with warm-force.

She touched me as if we were lovers,

For I responded, with a love-release.

She touched me as if we were lovers.

We both touched by love.

But we are not lovers, but pretended to be a good one.

Her name was Glydel.

Lover in pretension, but lover none-the-less.