The Taste of Your Lips

November 16, 2011
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I know you may not always understand
The difference
Between a woman and a man
But when you stand there
With your eyes so aglow
I cannot help but wonder
Where your lips are going to go
They spill honeysuckle words
That throws my tears into the wind
They toss about comments
That I’ve never heard
And when you’re sad
Your lips drip rain into my thoughts
Like a beautiful sound but drenched in pain
And when it seems
To strike your fancy
Your lips choose to warm my own
In a strange dance
In a language that only you know
They taste of water
With a hint of strawberries
Like sweet, watered wine
I was disappointed the first time I met those lips
That they were not, at once, mine
But I am selfish, to say the least
To say I have no song of my own
I can create with my hands
And hold life within me
But when it comes to kisses?
I just don’t know
I adapt to your patterns and keep pace on my own
But if I were to try and list the ways
I’d have to say that I don’t know
That you drown me
In your watered wine
And I, this proud artist
I, this singer of time
Am proud to say
Let me die…





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