Nothing will be wasted.
I shall lip everything back,
Lift my clumsy and the naughty,
The ones that never made it
To your heart-wall.

You cannot blame me for thinking
That the flowers are all the same,
Your lily, the opened rose, the petunias.
O this garden of a body you have.
You be-tremble me, Love, even now.

So now, tonight, ever,
We will save them up,
Oh I will kiss them back to your mouth,
This love thing,

To your tongue so tender,
From your neck,
Your legs so slender,
Your shoulders, your waist,
Those young *******,
Then to your soul.

And pretend,
I won't do it all,
All over again.*

© 2015 J.S.P.