Poetry

There are words there

From the moment our lips touched
I knew there were words there
I was prepared for my unexpected decision
to break rules set by the
stick-in-the-mud other half of my personality
Love keeping people on their toes
But I wasn’t prepared for the
split second bit of heaven that
brightened a dark room when
my lips touched his

Words spoke to me
They fell from the sky
Like a rain storm of fire
Embers landing all over me
and as much as I wanted it to be a one time thing
I had to go in again
Lips screamed encore
I needed to hear more of the words

See his lips told me there was a poem there
and at first I was dying to hear it
the metaphors and alliteration that I knew
would give me life
screamed to me
but I backed away
attempting to escape their cries
Cries not to be heard
but to be written

For awhile I fought the urge
riding out aftershocks of just a simple kiss
so complex in that simplicity
so much said when words were barely even uttered
all I kept hearing was that poem
desperate to be written
reaching out for life
and I couldn’t help but go back
to hear more

For a second I wondered
if I was the one to write it
but as my lips enjoyed his
riding shotgun in his space
getting high off his essence
exploring deeper into the words
I knew I wasn’t the poet to write this poem
Love poems aren’t my style
I have always been a writer
and the more I kissed
the more the epic novel introduced itself to me

That is when I had to bid his lips goodbye
confident in my ability to ghost write and co-star in
the passionate, and sometimes graphic, tale
revealed to me each time our lips touched
I was less sure that a spontaneous moment of freedom
would translate into me being chosen to wield the pen
And as much as I desired those lips to reveal more
and wrap themselves around the pages of my life
I thanked the universe for the preview
and stored everything else away in my dreams

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