On The Fringe

My seduction tastes like chocolate

And smells like tequila.

And my veins have turned to liquid fire.

Yet, you are regarding me with trepidation,

Hovering at the fringes,

Uncertain of my endgame.

I would tell you, my love, that I'm not your periphery,

But I am all rough edges and lace tonight.

Bittersweet.

Coffee black and saccharine.

So tell me, do you not find my angles enticing?

Your smile splays, seamlessly and genuine,

Regardless of my extremes.

And your whispered words resound,

"You will always be the woman of my dreams."