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Image for the poem A Votre Service

A Votre Service

One more taste for the night
His essence a thrill to be savored
The salt on his skin
The blood in his veins
His seed swallowed slowly
The meal leaving him a husk
A memory of the man he was
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Not long thereafter the craving recurs
Her yen for the sustenance of men
She writhes in her chamber
The fire dying lower by the hour
Her need spurs her to the sky
Circling over masculine prey
"A votre service," they invariably say.
Written by crowfly
Published | Edited 27th May 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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