He heard her voice,
and his heart sprang to attention,
like a soldier at boot camp,
eager to please,
standing tall,
and hoping for success.
He wanted to touch her skin
and her soul.
He wanted to prove himself
a worthy recruit.
He was willing to salute
her flag of affection.
He would fight wars for her.
He contemplated the campaign,
carefully crafted his life plan.
He realized that his forces were too meager
for the conflict,
without her legions.
Bravely,
he spoke the words of love.
He stood still
and alone,
waiting for the response
that she was ready to go into battle
with him.
Their enemy was doubt,
and anxiety about the future.
He wanted to say that the present was all.
The future would take care of itself.
Instead, he steadied himself
by thinking of her pure skin
laying next to him.
He wanted again to lay quietly,
whispering sweet words of love
into her ear
and to taste the sweetness
of her lips.
Could she see
that second chances at love
are rare,
and that pure love is rarer still?
He stood on the drill field,
his rifle empty of bullets.
He swore off war,
and anger,
and resolved to lay his weapon down,
at her command. 
