The Hymns of Anteros

Choice.

I chose you. To be my first glance at dawn, to be my last at the dead of night. I had always chosen you whether it'd be the warmth of your honeyed skin or the weight of your straying eyes on my dying viridity.

I chose you, from morning to night, to the last drop of my shame as I clawed, grasped in desperation to keep the remnants of your attention you labelled as love.

I was a vision in your straying glance. A moment to be forgotten.

You were my first, yet you don't intend to make me your last. 

-Eros