Was it love at first sight? Was it love at all?
Was it by fate’s urging that we happened upon each other on that cloudless night? Did the angels sing? Did planetary alignments draw my eyes to yours? Was it the whispering winds that swept my heart to you? Or was that merely the sound of cupid’s arrow whooshing towards its target? Could it be that I loved you before I spoke to you?
Or was it lust at first sight? Was it pure, unadulterated lust? Could it be that the gentle palpitating of my heart was in fact an extension of the fire that had been ignited in my loins? Did I notice your face first, glorious and perfect, or the sweet curve of your bossom?
Was it love, then? Or, maybe, possibly, conceivably, could it have been lust at first sight?