I put a poem in her purse

I put a poem in her purse,
forbidding any touch or look,
not sure who would read it first.

Played it cool but, a little terse,
asked how it went, and what it took.
I put a poem in her purse.

With urgency trapped feral verse
ripped from endangered notebook,
not sure who would read it first.

Comfort is adventure's curse,
but who might be the real crook?
I put a poem in her purse.

Stony eyes mirage a hearse,
engraved with scorn of affection mistook.
Not sure who would read it first.

A guest passing through her universe,
craven, quick, my intrepid hands shook.
I put a poem in her purse,
not sure who would read it first.