The sore of aloneness intensified,
melting en masse
in that burning lust,
as I vaporized—like your moisture—
on my molten lips.
A vagabond in the universe,
thirsting for another sip
of your luscious lower lips.
Why had nothing ever felt this good?
Why had I never savoured
that burst of silk in sweet spring waters
before?
Why had the waters
never been this clear—
clear enough to mirror my soul?
To reflect those colourful stones,
which, no matter how deep I dived,
I could never reach.
I wonder—
how did I ever survive
before kissing you?
Who was I ever,
before you kissed me back?
