Devoured

She was thirsting for his touch,
His bloodshot eyes, his delectable poise,
She wanted him to devour her,
To be extirpated by his charm,
Consumed,
She wanted to be read like she was a book,
Page by page, word by word,
His eyes reading the red leathered strong cover
His long fingers tracing the nuances of the crisp paper,
She wanted him to bend the corners of the pages he found to be abstruse,
And re-read them while sipping on a glass of red wine,
She wanted to be understood, taken in,
Mind and soul, body bones and flesh.
He was laconic, and she was long cursive handwriting,
He was churlish, and she was complaisant,
He was dangerous and she was innocuous,
He was like a mountain that couldn't be weathered by a storm
And she was like a stream that would keep changing shape and size,
He was the Mahogony Bonfire on her cold frosty winter's night,
Theirs was a tryst that couldn't be understood,

But little did he know,
That he was being devoured by her,
By the scintillating shine in her eye,
By the way she loved and the way she let poetry flow out of her crimson lips,
He called her meek and weak but he knew he would have to surrender to her strength,
She was the one who made ridges in his strong statuesque self,
He judged her, he chastised her,
but he wanted her, all of her,
Mind and Soul,body bones and flesh,
It hurt him that he could not have her,
because she was the stream and he was the mountain,
She'd left him way behind.