Honey Lips

About the possibility of falling in love.

I think if I write about you I give you power. But I saw a video a couple days ago I cant stop thinking about- I saw two people kissing and the caption read: hope you learn to love someone as much as i love this man. And they rubbed their faces against each other and her lips stuck to his like it was impossible for their lips to pull away and I hope I learn to love someone too. And I think maybe it’ll be you- if you (or I) let it. Because that same day you put up a picture where your lips looked like honey and oh how they would stick to mine. And they (your lips and mine, of course) probably couldn’t get enough of each other, I think. Like flowers and bees. Like skin to skin. Like sticky summer air and timid hellos and explosive goodbyes and small rooms in big cities and maybe a lot of love? I don’t know. I don’t care if it’s you- but here I am, writing to you hoping maybe you write to me too.

 

 

Honey lips and sticky skin

Grab the back of your neck like

Bees grabbing onto pollen

It’s important!

No, it’s vital!

I need to feel you so you’re a little more raw, more tender

Raw soft honey that melts in your mouth no

No it’s not sticky, cashmere on your tongue

Tender touch gliding fingertips exploring

Landscapes and hills and valleys

Of tender, soft, everything I ever wanted to know

Legs, intertwining bodies mixing like oil paint, oil

Paint a picture of what makes you explode

makes you melt makes you feel so strong you think you’re

dying and reviving at the same time

Paint a picture of me