| Mouth Your mouth is so perfect: soft and symmetric, Red and wet, swollen, loose with desire. You touch me with it, send spasms electric Making my torso hot, crackling on fire. You make my skin feel like it's been melted off When you breathe upon it. And I've known since we met That I would someday "maybe" want your mouth soft- Pressed against my waiting mouth. But you have yet To kiss me there, though you have had the chance to. Content to have you doze on the couch with me, I stay still, afraid to move, 'cause if I do, I'd wake you and dissolve this momentary Time of perfection that your mouth has found. I hope I won't wake you up with my heart's pound. |