I crave you.

I wonder of your lips, tinted with kiss of rose,
and my mind traces from corner to cupid's bow.
Neither scent of swirling ocean or forest at dusk
can compare to the engulfing fumes of your musk.
My heart wastes on you with every sigh I draw--
Oh, but how I wish to hold you in my jaws.
Ah, I bite and tear and lick and caress!
I want to make such a mess of you.
Do your tastebuds scream for me too?
Should I save my appetite for you?
Is it a crime of passion to assume the sweat
on your skin is as sweet as  I imagine?
I confess, embarrassed, for my tongue slips
when I am near you, and my saliva drips
from my fangs in hunger--
May I pull you under me?

It is so hard to behave.
I cannot resist; thus, I crave.