Lunch Box

She has pomegranate eyes and cherry lips,
snow white teeth and chocolate hair.
she is breakfast for the lustful,
dinner for the vengeful,
and lunch for me.

I wrap her in my plastic arms
and seal her air tight with a kiss.
She does not struggle but rather gives
and assists.

I crave her on Sunday afternoons
with such force no substitute will do.
I chew slowly to savor the richness
of her boastful peach skin.
Drink in her girlish apricot sent.

My meal, my girl
with the pomegranate eyes.