Her skin is supple, soft to touch
Her lips are plump as pudding
She has six wings, sweet stained-glass things,
That make her lose her footing
And have you seen the way she twirls?
She makes one’s mouth feel empty
She has no name, but all the same,
She never fails to tempt me
The sculptors shaped her perfectly
Even her scent’s enchanting
Like something missing, lovers kissing,
Like honeyed wine decanting...
Desire can please like nothing else
Just be sure not to feed it
For human meat, they say, is sweet
So long as you don’t eat it.