A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

I'm pretty in my sheep's clothing, aren't I?
I know you don't think so.
Only my fellow wolves would.
They don't know I'm one of them,
Salivating at the sight of you,
Thinking of grabbing you before they can,
And yes, eating you up.

Don't be fooled, dear damsel.
I'm not a piece of prey like you.
I have the same hunger in me
As the alleyway john,
The buyer of a bride,
The half of humanity that exhausts themselves in pursuit of the world's most priceless things:
Breasts and hips and tender lips.

People may lie,
But my body can only speak truth.
The truth is in the part of me that aches of craving,
Building up water and warmth,
Swollen with the thoughtless instinct to do what I can't do with you.

You don't know what it's like to live with this hunger.
The wolves don't believe me when I tell them
I've never lived without it.
And I'm so sorry,
Because I never wanted to be a predator.

I'm sorry you thought you were safe with me,
Safe from being desired.
Believe me, I see you as more than meat.