You possessing perfect mouth. Your smooth lips
magnetizing lips. Slight arc smile saving
civilization. Your soft breathy quips
burning my skin, my pulse’s blood craving
more and more heat from your rhythmic phrases.
I record your smirk, seeing life enfold
its flexing vines. I enclose your phases
of tense insight. If my lips ever told
you how your lips entrance and guide all earth
surely it would terrify, gape your mouth
in horror. If I said your mouth gives birth
to dreams, surely your lips would reveal youth’s
doubt—your soft laugh buffer my words, surmise
deep sighs, then silence and your ocean eyes.
Roger Armbrust
May 1, 2014
