Your lips are rough
They scar mine when we kiss, sandpaper against flesh, a lion's tongue.
That's what you are
Your lips are bleeding.
They have bled many times over, skin cracked and torn, scabbed, again and again
again and again
Whether you laugh, or talk or frown,
you bleed
When you kiss me with that mouth of yours,
you paint with scarlet strokes,
when all I want is a blank canvas
for my own paint and some free flow
Your lips
are home
So kiss me once more
