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.