I Picked My Poison

I picked my poison.
I was lost in the amber liquid of your eyes.
Housed in a tempting presentation.
Topped with sultry words.
Two contradictory reactions occurred.
Simultaneously.
Lips above became dry.
Lips below became wet.
Yet nothing was done to appease.
The closer the temptation approached.
The desire illicit a want
To take you whole
Should I choose my end?
Or wait and pick another poison.