Alienpoet Dec 2

Red lips
White paint
hides death
her grace a butterflies wing
life caught in her cold stare of her sting.
All dressed in colours which catch the moons glare
she kisses you like death kisses away the life that fades from sleep
an angel with a bushido blade
cuts away the bamboo which grows with haste
the light fades into a full moon
A butterfly hiding in a tomb
with carnivorous teeth
hiding a song of red bloodied despair
her cold touch ice on skin
catches your heart within sin
The black tea ceremony
of vampiric death or matrimony
if she chooses you for her thrall.

Paras Bajaj Sep 14

Red lips and weird faces.
Star-like eyes and no traces.
Benevolent ways and eminently wise.
Little hell and little paradise.

Timeless beauty but compassionate.
Gold-like bright but great.
No wings but flies high.
Little hell and little paradise.

Paras Bajaj

instagram.com/paraspoems
nichole r Jun 2014

her lips were as red as the blood dripping from a fresh wound.
they were as dark as anger and as passionate as love.
they ignited fires, if only under his skin.
they glistened in the light, as she swept her tongue across.
they were all he wanted, all he aspired for.
he watched her painted lips form the soft p's and round o's
of their everyday language.
he watched her lips pull back with sheer happiness
and he found himself grinning along with her.
she took something so common, like pouting with distaste,
and made it so astonishingly glorious.

again, part of a story I wrote told in poetry.

— The End —