Our cheesy love

The meat is red,
chocolate is not blue.
You are the cheese
for my fondue.
 
Bread and gouda cheese
and a little more ham...
And we forged a customs identity,
crossed the border of desire
and I ate you whole, digested...
slowly, like anaconda,
the fat matter of our love.
 
You are the harmony
that completes my song.
You are the brie
that goes with my tongue.
 
You are the yellow  
that slices in style.