Biting The Apple.

She told me to take just one bite,
I met her in the dark of night.
She held a withered candle light,
Her figure slumped and shoulders slight.

I took the apple, gently so,
The woman watched, she didn't go.
Her narrow frame swayed to and fro,
Her eyes fixed on me, I felt a show.

I smiled and raised it to my lips,
And took a bite, of its juices: sips.
Then they came, the biting nips,
A feeling strange, down to my hips.

The apple fell, and I fell, too,
My brain and heart both paused a few.
The woman cackled; oh! She knew,
My eyes slipped shut, my plans fell through.