I recollect the texture of his lips
and long to nibble them: to take them in
between my own and mumble till one slips
away and leaves me room to discipline
the other. I adore them as his flesh,
but also as the portals of his speech,
delivering the phrases that refresh
my soul the way the nectar from a peach
revives my throat, as soothing as a song.
Tonight I’ll see them widen in a smile,
remodeling their shape from crooked pout
to hearty grin. I say that they belong
near mine, in wit or boredom, even while
they speak depression or they shape a shout.
Sputterpub's Blog 
“to take them in
between my own and mumble till one slips
away and leaves me room to discipline
the other.”
What a potent expression. Love this piece! Thank you for sharing, it earned you a follow.
Them’s fighting words (thank you!)
Fights like that are fun to be involved in. Haha. And my pleasure.