B-Your Green Eyes

Sex is the relationship.
An intimate note, perfume,
The transfer of a fistful
Of wildflowers:
All the better, for both
Of us. But always it must
Come down to your
Wanting me inside you,
Ensheathed, held tight.
Afterwards, we may go out,
To food, and music,
And the philosophic night.
And yet, as we talk,
Intertwining fingers,
Your green eyes, prowling,
Getting hungry again.