Red Rhapsody

She was ripe,

an unpeeled apple

waiting to be exposed,

wearing proud red cloak

of ultimate perfection.

I peeled curvaceous layers,

unraveled masked white skin,

appealing freckled face,

beauty more than

skin deep,

lush contours

of glistening silk.

My teeth bit

into her flesh

with slathering,

seductive sound,

intoxicated with

sweet fragrance

of her pith.

Sugar juice

dripped from lips,

red blush of ripeness.

Claret rhapsody.