In every kiss,
I forget why I'm sad,
the memory of hurt fades,
by unspoken words on lips.
   Ignorance is truly bliss.

After I saw her, I knew she was the one. 
I knew, oh I knew well about her

She breathed as a being I wanted to preserve in my art. 
She possessed power over me that summoned me without surrender.

I'd go mad without her;
I want to kiss her beauty so well, 

Only my lips can entertain a supple soul like hers, 
Desperate for someone like me.

I have acquired dreams of planting kisses, 
Holding her delicately in my arms as I strum her hair.

I want to love her, making her my statue.

the dew of your lips
and butterflies in my stomach

even after all this time
i’m still addicted
to the poison
dripping from your lips

When your lips touched my cheek
I was cold but you didn’t seem to care
And you carried on kissing me,
Caressing my face. Your breath
Stank of coffee and cigarettes.

Six months before this that stench
Was something romantic and meaningful.
The symbol of autumn walks in late afternoon
Those orange red and yellow tinted walks
With talk of poetry art me and you

All those clichéd things half remembered
As you try to kiss me. Please stop
Your hair looks blue darling, dearest, ****
Just stop please, I feel we’re through
You’re kissing me and I cannot see your eyes

Your eyes that on our autumn walks
Cut into my soul are now no longer present
I instinctively turn away, subtly insinuate
Please don’t kiss me darling, dearest, ****
The sky is blue and mellow, your hair is
Blue like the sea, or your music, or your soul.

Your flesh is the colour of flesh,
I once wanted your body but now
My face tilts away from your rough lips
And you ask are you ok? Are you ok?
And nothing really matters.

Their lips touch
Creating a spark
Igniting the flame
Burning deep within
The ultimate sin
Fires burn
Losing control
Flesh on flesh
Lighting the soul
Flames dance
Intertwine
Connecting
In rhythm
Fueling the fire
Little ***** of gasoline
Exploding at the perfect time
Opening hells gates
The fire escapes
Flames light the midnight sky
Lighting a cigarette
The fire slowly dies

my fingers fell into cinnamon buns.
the sticky, sweet icing coated my nails.
the residue - stubborn and unyielding -
but enticing to lick, making me sick.

then my lips flirted with sultry wine
that pulled me into its safe embrace,
letting me breathe a sigh of relief
as I stared into space, enamored.