After each nibble,
I swore off —
I’d hold my hands up in the air, protesting —
“You are not the one.”
But I sucked him dry.
I kept him coming back for more.
As for my repeated trips of dining on his flesh, I was in love with the adoration.
It was the adoration that kept me coming back.
Even if someone does not “get” me, if they track me, I may be won over.
Caught.
There are worse things to be in this vacant life.
