Feast

I am a glutton for you. And I will seek you out. I will lick you like icing off a cake. I nibble on the small bits like finger food, and when I am ready to feast I will heat you with the fire, the type of fire that only lust can generate you. I will sear you over an open flame, glazed in sweat and the sweetness of wanting. And I will eat you again, and again, and again. Until there is nothing left of you, but the pieces of you that reside inside me. 

I gnaw you to the bone, and then I snap that in two. Toss it in the streets while I bury beneath the sheets, and silently and alone I sit there and lick my fingers. I can still taste the saltiness of you.