The growl that emanates from your throat
is hardly one of anger, I know,
for I sense the heat rising from your skin
and feel the tremors within me,
a trembling excited by this increasing need,
this feeding frenzy of ours.
Oh, be this ever enticing precisely prowling you,
carve your desire into my bare chest,
even as your words scorch my nascent soul
with new life that others fear.
Every day I am yours, wandering the streets
sweating across the sheets
of a once barren bed, bereaved yet reborn
beyond the scorn of heedless loss.
Tease me erect, grasping your hand firmly
around me, urging my pleasure.
For this moment has been one preying intent
above all else and all other need—
that you climb over my eager hungry mouth
and, my glorious love, feed me!
George Ellington 