Hair askew

and sequins in her eyes,

black silk dress

clinging to her curves.

Little sparkles

polka dot his palms.

He itches to slide

her sexy dress,

glide it past her hips,

uncovering to find

sunken treasure there.

Hidden in her pockets,

he finds more sequins

fallen from her hair,

sticking to his fingers,

gluing them together

never will they part,

sharing forever

one sequined heart.

We find 

little fault

with the mouth

that bit 

the apple

when the lips

bowed and juicy

rival the yield

Does it cease 

to matter

the message

candy-coated

in a poison

so sweet

you can

no longer

tell the difference?

Beauty has

beguiled the eye

longer than 

our tongue

has tasted

the forsaken truth

its a miracle

at all 

that we 

even set foot

beyond Paradise

when her

ripe fruits

keep us 

infatuated with

the wretched tree.