Battle of Wills

He was a very resourceful adversary.
Adroit in our game of ping-pong gazes
he demolished any attempt for me to
ignore him. The cologne filled breeze
that follows him would inundate my
senses, raze inhibitions; anything
was a cogent reason to look up.
Oh, he was a shrewd opponent.
I would look, and he would swiftly
avert his gaze, hampering my next
move. I was not as dexterous and
would allow the scent to cling on
humid skin, never to evaporate.
It would overwhelm me and before
I could prevent it, he catches my wistful
gaze and the game is over. He wins.
He is a very resourceful adversary.