she's hungry

she pulls a rotisserie
chicken apart like nobody's
business. it doesn't
stand a chance. she's
that hungry. legs
go first, then
the wings, then a
sharp carving
knife slides deep
into the tender white
meat. skin and all,
goes into her mouth.
she pulls the stuffing
out with her fingers,
there's no stopping her.
she licks the juices off
her lips and hands,
wild eyed, wild hair,
then takes a swig
of wine from the bottle.
finally she stops, satisfied,
and looks at me across
the table, and winks.
ah oh.