Prey

My late night thoughts are hungry wolves
stalking her lush horizon.

My red tongue unfurls
as her sweet scent sails along the wind
and I can taste her phantom skin
billowing like a deep puff of tobacco.

Evening skies spill in inky rivulets,
dark and wet
I feel each strand of her hair
gushing through my grasping fingers.

Her mouth is a crescent moon
painted by howls of delight,
she writhes like the silhouette of a dancer,
bent and curled around my hips.

She is insatiable red lines
carved into the palette of my back,
arched spine lifting her delicate bounty
to the fire of my hungry kiss.

Jealous stars fly behind blanketing clouds,
her astronomy
is a series of gleaming constellations
more beautiful than the known heavens.

My fingertips are white lilies
soaking in the honey of her pink petals,
I drink warm dew from her blossom
as she strums a symphony of ecstasy.

My early morning thoughts are hungry wolves
thirsting for another taste.