she is

he is tussled and torn -
all over rustled like
auburn autumn leaves
jumped in daily

the bottom is not empty
or dangerous either
mostly soft ...
a bit loud when fed
too much

he waits, quiet...his lips
quiver a little
when she opens the door

like  a gremlin
she might become evil
at midnight
without warning

it won't be worth
putting up a fight

her ribbons are boas
her legs a long abyss
innocent eyes entrance
the unwitting onlooker

she is quicksand

it will be easier to give in