You didn't tell me we'd be listening
to music when I picked up the phone.
Your dulcet tones danced through my velvet
head and perched upon the crescent
moon that was my lips.
You could see my body drifting away,
so you took my hand and saw that I moved
in time with you, sailing upon the song
that jumped over a telephone line.
In awe, my tongue was pinched,
my ears became a playing field for
all the ***** you had to bat.
Birds began to sing in the early hours
as we put away the chitter chatter
But it didn't stop my phone from
glowing
me from glowing,
you from lighting up.
A phone call with a lover leaves the sweetest tastes on your tongue.
