deepundergroundpoetry.com
Stitched Lips
Her lips, soft like old paper
tastes of stardust and ink.
I'd kiss her a thousand times over,
just to savour the poetry resting
on her wasp tongue—
but, I'm kissing ghosts
with empty eyes, void, naked
and vulnerable like sleeping
gargoyles in the mid-day sun.
[ I'll love her quietly, close-mouthed
and tongueless,
in the arms of stone angels. ]
tastes of stardust and ink.
I'd kiss her a thousand times over,
just to savour the poetry resting
on her wasp tongue—
but, I'm kissing ghosts
with empty eyes, void, naked
and vulnerable like sleeping
gargoyles in the mid-day sun.
[ I'll love her quietly, close-mouthed
and tongueless,
in the arms of stone angels. ]
Published 19th Oct 2011
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