She had lips written in brail,
The one you had to kiss to know;
The type that shows me hell,
But tells me, “this is heaven”.
Mine is like the underside of a pyramid,
Wrapped in pure passion,
That only yours shall know;
The insurmountable pleasures that are a conundrum contradiction.
The outlines of mere infatuation,
I want your lips naked,
And in the arms of mine.
Your lips sing an aria,
Poems that now emerge from my vocal chords,
And I’m crushed from the weight,
Of the lust it emanates.
Bestow kisses in elfin proportions,
Let it settle as dew in the mountains,
That I may learn your names,
From the grooves in your lips,
And know what languages you speak.
Cement my collar bones with love bites,
So my throat fizzes with desperation,
That I now breathe through,
The crack from your smile.
Let your lips evansece in mine,
That I might taste in it,
Every follicle of your existence,
From the kisses in your lips.
– Smyekh David-West.