sits on her lip like a flower
makes you mutter to yourself
too many kisses falling into her
open mouth, too many sun-drenched frolics,
too many late nights
distracts you from the capillaries
popping in her eyes and the way they water,
spots of heat staining her cheeks.
while it grows over into pus-dredged weeds,
the mold on her breath talks for her.