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how sweet a kiss
A smile is ever forming on
 the cusp of his lips
 Sweet gentleness spreading like
 a wild-fire
 
 The same lips that kiss
 his mother whisper
 curses, softly, that he knows
 ought not to be said; he keeps
 them on the down-low as
 if God was hard of hearing.
 
 Satisfying lips that gravitate
 towards mine - Romeo was right.
 Those lips are a sin that
 cannot be shaken, a honey-dripping
 temptation I cannot resist.

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