Not My Type

I swear
That she
Was not my type,
Yet that night
Something other than empathy
Did stir
In me.
Maybe ’twas merely
Her body’s scent . . .

I thought her vulgar,
A judgement perhaps unfair,
But something other than empathy
Did stir
In me
That night,
Although I swear
That she
Was not my type.

An animal attraction maybe
To her,
But something other than empathy
Did stir
In me
That night,
Although I swear
That she
Was not my type.