Night-Guest

Not every woman can candidly
boast of her secret lover. I can.
But I will not. This affair of the heart
is one of discreet sensitivity. Not even
neighbours are aware. He comes at
night, silently, his graceful gait
unique, his handsome visage
lightly masked, intent on serving
his passion, seeking me out. Oh,
it is true, that old maxim that 
delectable food lovingly prepared
is the way to the male heart. And he
quite simply adores my preparations,
eating his fill, meticulously cleaning
away after himself, leaving no
trace of his stealthy arrival, repast
and gratitude. He is wise, clever
with his hands, amusing no end,
and utterly in my thrall.