Standing in front of me

I observe you and admire you.

I love:

your rare perfection,

your symmetry,

your form,

and your shape. 

I can almost taste you,

my mouth, watering

begs to consume you

starting with a bite,

continuing with a lick,

and culminating with your juice

dripping in and out of me.

Dearest strawberry,

at the risk of insulting you

I must confess: I want you as much.

Oh!, but him, my want for him

is stronger than my will.

Forgive me, let me eat you first.