sweet (12/27/19)
honeysuckle lips
almost touching mine, but not quite
they drip below
the crook of my nose,
slide down,
down,
down...
to the tip of my tongue.
words of adoration taste sickly sweet,
but confessions deathly sour.
i can't wash the pungent taste out of my mouth.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.