Skin and Bones

I am emaciated.
I haven't tasted you in ages.
The smallest morsel would make me
this starving girl feel 
like the most gluttonous man alive.
Run your fingers over the ridges of my ribs,
and trace the lines of my hips and collarbones.
Only then would the starvation I hold for you
become evident.
My eyes linger upon you,
gaunt from malnourishment
as I drink in your body in small sips.
I'm never allowed a full glass,
only what you allow me,
only what I allow myself.
I'm skin and bones for you
but I can survive weeks of destitution
for a single night of feasting upon you.