Cravings Poem by Kendra Evans

I crave to look into the eyes of the carnivore, ready to sample his prey,
And the caress of life riddled fingertips across soft, delicate skin.
I crave the taste of the special delicacy, that only drips from his pores,
And the sounds of passion that call out for more.
I crave to be as near as a second skin,
And to be able to express the heat that burns from within.

Though, separated by miles of geography,
I covet him both secretly and in public.
There is no to sleep for these dreams, for these cravings can not be covered.
And while I wait patiently, I hope soon these cravings will be indulged.