Dear Hunter

She is bright
As a light
Having a laugh
Dancing  and singing,
Pretty girl having fun..
He watched her drinking..
He watched closely in his blue suade
Shoes and token interest.. The wine  an easy friend.. I dont know her, but I know her so well.
She wants fun and entertainment.. a release from monotony.. He has a niche, she doesn't know him.. He can play the perfect gent.. These red faced, seasoned men who come with alcohol gifts to ease the passing of inhibitions.. Like the deer hunter he stalks his sweet pray for the kill.. But her alert lies within the forest as we can see the woods for the trees,  this trail as old as the sak he imbibes.. the lust..of a man possessed with opportunity.. there is nothing that goes unnoticed in this community.. Its like a silent charade unfolding, her friend abandons her to her fate,  who are we to dictate, shes a grown woman. Filled with wine and hes topping her up... A caring person would halt the line, no I've seen this, getting carried away by a false impression and bravado.. One person tells him she knows his game,  its not jealousy, unlike men we are not in this 'shag,' club.. Pat on the back for scoring with a woman under the influence, shamefull.. And maybe she bolted while we engaged him...  leaving behind a decoy jacket  where he waited, fondling the lapels like Hanibal Lecter.. He would eat her liver with backed beans and Spumante..but the sweet thing escaped... If a beast needs to season its prey with alcohol they are not men..