To her he was love personified, sweet lover
but if you think there ends his troubles of amour
you need to read this narrative to the end.
He would make her bathe in cranberry juice
and feed her the juiciest of peaches and plums
from morning till night, if strawberries and
luscious mangoes become too much for her.
She made him read poetry aloud till their
hearts break in sweet pain,Sappho's poems made
his eyes moist, but she cries aloud, often inconsolable.

At one point fed up being his lap dog
she attacked him tooth and nail, still her love intact,
showering kisses all over his naked chest down.
He laughed taking credit to be the cause
of her true enlightenment,letting her to be herself.

Night was spreading her venom in their veins
and it started to show it's effects as animal instincts
the tigress in her woke up, stretching to full length,
stared at his flesh, hairy broad chest, athletic legs, and groin
then after the play thoroughly exhausted and drained
she rolled to the other end of the bed, the monster
named angst keeping awake in the darkest corner
taking in all  with fluorescent eyes, sprung up on him
bit, scratched, mauled and wounded, as much as it wanted,
he was dazed, didn't scream, fought bitter tears like always.