Lips

I once saw these items as special.

Somewhere this sight of mine changed. People stole things from me. My perceptions were stolen. Hugged away.

A calculated night of brushes, leading to a palm kissing a shirt clad lower back. That was in February. A one night, closed door, embarrassing and young night merged into months of moments made of 1 a.m. to 4 a.m. Friday to Saturday escapades.

Some moments tender, others frightening...

Drawing teeth scared kisses.

Then there was the German. Short lived. Two swivel chairs in a classroom.

Palm to hip. Mint gum breath cast with compliments. Leaving the country...why not.

Squeezed into a Cinderella dress, course black puff around my knees, in his bed. Chasing his fingers down. Kissing a sleep deprived soul upon my too used bed.

He stood before me. And took something too fast that I wasn't willing to give. Even in innocence.

To being mentally pursued after a poorly poured evening. Shaken and alone with a dead phone. Compliment filled e-mails. Intellectually stroking moral character.

And the original of it all...

Well...

Whores and boredom are things of the past.

Will there be a kiss goodnight now???

Let it be cold out again, so that we may lay on the bed...and I'll compliment you on your arm.

I'll listen.