It was never a crush.
Only strong admiration.

I imagined your lips soft and strong,
With a little tugging in between.
Not too much tongue,
but one long kiss of passion and a bite of lust.

Your neck seems like a good place to hide.
Warm and comforting.
Though your thumb would caress my cheek
And my hands lay on your shoulder.

When I stare at your lips,
they don't speak.
Not to me.
Reality eats infatuation
And watches the clips in my mind.

Your lips
Are no match for mine,
But have have died on me.