Your lips carry such sweet words, such honey, your lips carry with them the key to my demise. Your mouth, the curves that it makes, the circles that it envelops as you feed my heart with little nothings. I ofter think, I ponder, how is it they are so sweet, so delicate, how they drip with honey and yet sputter carefully inter-twinned half truths?
I wonder how you live, lie and lie again, live to lie, live in a lie, live for a lie? Your choice is full of comfort and a cushy residence for your number one priority, yourself.
Your lips, so enticing, so venomous, so corrupt, so poorly made for uttering I love you's.
I still touch them with mine, carefully tasting every lie, carefully savoring the last moments before our good bye.