Sometimes I picture
Your lips.
Not kissing them
Ever so gently.
Not your eyes so perfectly placed
Above them.
Just your lips.
How they curve when you tell me
That I just make you so happy.
How soft they are when you lean in
To tell me you love me.
I try not to think of how those lips
May lie to me.
Or how they will quiver
When you no longer find happiness in me.
Some times I picture your lips,
And how they will feel on her lips
When you tire from mine.