She tastes, like the chilli-dark chocolate

The flavour enchants the tongue even more

because it was stolen swiftly and brazenly

exactly how the thief likes her childish whims.

 

Her eyes widen and she scoffs comically,

but her righteously burning anger dims

before honest desire springing from the core

of the being who is not but yet is her everything.

 

The bitter-sweet moment stored in a pocket,

neatly packed with dancing around the adore

that thaws on the thief’s tongue, tasting heavenly

she is hers ultimately, but, unfortunately, he wins.