She is silent.
She is the breeze through the trees.
She is the moisture in the air.
She is the pause before a first kiss.

Still.

Her hands reach into me.
Pulling my insides out--
Putting my heart on display.
"Does this beat for me?"

She is temptation.

She licks her lips at the sight
of my blood on her hands.
Her eyes meet mine,
I am her puppet.

Consumed.

My mind does not exist
without her in the forefront.
I would cease to exist
if she ever let me go.