Your Lips

Your lips are lines of a poem

indelibly written upon these breasts,

upon these hips,

like a tattoo or a scar,

an invisible mark I bear

upon my skin.

And when I decorate

the walls of my mind with stars,

those verses illuminate

like phosphorescence

in the glow of black light

and the lingering language

of your kiss

speaks to me again,

a satisfying long

and heartfelt ballad

that rhymes in all the right places

and transports this aching body

beyond words,

into the ecstatic agony

of memory.


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