I have been thinking about your lips
since four this morning.
What will the morning say
when it gestures with your dark and slender hands?
Why are the firemen ringing their bells
and swinging their ladders?
Explanation would only signal
a caution easy to ignore,
while I must make so many decisions
about your lips like salted butter, like sunburn.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 22, Issue 2.
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