You always seem to me
Like dark chocolate--
Sweet, but not too...
And the Mistress of a druggy and delicious craving.
A woman would go mad
If she tried to make a meal of you;
You are to be nipped in shadows or by candle light
By admirers gone slaves to their willful tongues.
I would do better
To leave you alone,
But deprivation leaves me bitchy and snappish;
Coat half on, I'm already out the door...
I need to hold your smug face in my hands--
I have to kiss you,
'Til I burn with shame
And an illicit, incredible, inexpressible