There was a time when my mind was young
When I would have seen you standing there
And thought to myself
"Those lips are perfect"
Today, age screams, like a mad sage in my head
Vile never looked so pretty
Whispers of youth recall those lips
Innocent, ruby red delight
Soft pillows of temptation
That lull one into a false sense of comfort
Disguising love as lust
The hands were skillful too
Always guiding your obstinate mouth
Bacchanalian seduction
Drunken senses
Your wistful playground
Today, in my sunset years
I just chuckle to myself
And say a prayer for the next young girl
Who crosses your path
Unsuspecting
It's those beautiful lips
That she will see
Hear
And then surely feel
Falling heart first into desire's trap
