Feast of Flesh

At this feast, food is meaningless.
A different starvation exists.  
You are the feast.
My heart a hungering beast.
The architecture of your body,
should stand in naked erect divinity.
Supple and hard muscular skin.  
Where you end, I begin.  
In a stifling hot wind in my mind,
I thirst as well you will find.  
You quench this parched hell without you.  
Your lips taste lusciously sour  
I've already devoured your soul's stew
in a million thoughts.  
A thousand times an hour.  
In my lips you are helplessly caught.  
Your breath has a faint hint of lime.  
Your flesh is prime.
Ferocious hunger groans.
Unquenchable thirst moans.
Bring your feast to my throne.