| | what traced your lips was not lipstick.
my finger orthogonally pressed upon
your parallel pink lips firm and telling
beckon momentary silence; no,
we're not allowed to do this.
my thoughts-
we can not!
we will not.
will we?
will you?
won't you?
won't you let me in?
no.
you're holding my breath.
i'm suffocating; i'm drowning;
i'm smothered singing smiles.
we said we wouldn't,
but our fingers were crossed-
all ten of yours against
all ten of mine.
|
| | Posted 6/18/2009 1:51 PM - 6 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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