Your Lips

I woke up thinking of your mouth

how I’d kiss you good morning,

how I’d steal a kiss between hits of the blunt.

All day I carried the ache

to map your spine with my lips,

to find the corners of your smile and press myself there.

Tonight, I’ll fall asleep with the taste of you imagined,

dreaming of your lips against mine,

and when I stir at 3 a.m., I’ll crave you in my arms,

just so I can kiss you awake.

And of all the lips I’ve ever wanted,

none have ever pulled me in

the way yours do.