Duane Vorhees writes

Mistress Mine

She intrudes, unbidden, insistent.

And, unamused am I, as I anticipate 

the sleepless nights 

of groping -- poking -- stroking

through darknesses and light,

through darknesses and light,

until, satiated, she abandons.

And, emptied like a snakeskin,

sucked grapeskin dry,

anxiously I await an assignation.

Be she succubus

or be she muse

matters not to me.