He’s kissing your lips, Not you.
You're kissing him,
but he's not kissing you.
He's not feeling the same way you are,
and he's not looking for the same thing.
Your eyes meet, but it's at a crossroad;
they choose different directions.
Yours: senses and feelings
His mouth tastes like cigarettes
Soon enough, you'll be a chain smoker
His eyes are like oceans,
except less of a cliché
Waves drift down your body,
tugging at your bra,
lifting up your shirt
He doesn't want to fuck your mind
or ride through the depths of your thoughts
He yearns for flesh.
Panties at your knees,
skirt flung across the room
You want him to look at your naked soul, but
Your body is all he sees.
I'm sorry,
but he's kissing your lips,
Not you.
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