You Are The Feast

i want to lay my healing hands all over your silky olive skin.
i want to hear your raspy breath and smell your hair.
i want to feel your bones and your blood boiling within.

i don't want to be your wife.
i don't want to be your mother.
i want to be the one to give you back your life.

serve it up on a sterling silver platter with all the trimmings.
you are the feast.
i will set a very fine table everyone will come, to fill up, to savor you.
you are the feast.

give into the craving, quit behaving like an old man stuck in the way,
removed from all his passions,
forging a life fashioned from second hand shame.

i don't want to be your wife.
i don't have to be your lover.
i want to be the one to give you back your life.

serve it up one a sterling silver platter with all the trimmings.
you are the feast.
i will set a very fine table everyone will come, to fill up, to savor you.
you are the feast.