Nymph.

Obsessed with intimacy, sex, passion.

You awaken the beast in every saintly man.

Show them life on the Devil's side.

You give to them Holy Ground.

You, an unsatisfied soul, lust for somhething bigger, more, stronger.

You bend every which way you can, twisting and shouting.

Perhaps against the wall this time.

Or on the counter.

Maybe oustide, on a park bench.

In the backseat, will it work?

Thirsting for the taste of another's breath on your thighs, you cave.

So in love with sinking into flesh of strangers.

As if but meat for dinner. 

You crave.

You cave.

Wanting every hole to be filled by something more than flesh.

But all you know how to open is your body.

Not mind nor spirit nor heart.

Nymph, you're always unsatisfied.

No matter how you play the part.