lips

My lips are soft,
even though I haven’t kissed
you in months.
I run my fingers gently
through them and I imagine
your fingers touching them.
My heart skips a beat
and I remember
kisses in snowy January days,
kisses in hot August nights,
kisses in 3 am and
kisses in 3 pm.
My lips carry the memory
of yours, and suddenly
my feet are not touching
the ground and I am floating.
I miss you.
Feel my cherry lips and know
they’re yours until they crack
and loneliness bleeds out.

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