five a day

I have to turn away

as the juice trickles down

your wrist

and into your sleeve

your fingers pink and sticky

unable to watch

your devious tongue

delve into the sweet flesh

of that purple-green fig

in your gentle grasp

when you look up

at me furtively

your wide eyes are gleaming

in a curious dark way

then they return to the fruit

as in everything

meticulous in your focus

passionate and devoted

the same attention now

as you gave to my body

after you finish

the husk and seeds

carelessly strewn aside

you claw your way to me

with that un-sated appetite 

while you whisper sweet lies

I can't help thinking of

eve and the serpent

lost in an endless eden

all reason left behind