"It's always maybe with you,"
he said to me,
so I opened the door
and led him inside.
In friend's clothing
he deceived me,
sat in front of me
and smiling, silently appraised me.

He handled my legs like they were meat
my skin resisted his sliding palms
and still he smiled
and I didn't look him in the eye,
his familiar face was too different.

Apparently, he was not pleased,
I was not worth as much as he'd thought
and still he smiled when he left,
but shed his facade soon thereafter.
He knew me well before he said
"It's always maybe with you,"
knowing how easily I am coaxed,
how verily I will accept a challenge,
that phrase my biggest pet peeve.

I let him in, and he let himself out,
but not after leaving some money
on the nighttable.