By JH Sayyar
O
lips that hold the silence and the flame,
Where every kiss begins, breath must end.
No sweeter fruit, no sound so soft in name,
What your touch and trembling sighs commend.
A
rose half-bloomed beneath the evening’s glow,
A whispered vow upon the waiting skin,
You teach the tongue the only truth to know—
That love begins and ends where lips have been.
I've
traced their curve in dreams and waking need,
In stolen glances, and in dead hours apart.
They speak without a word, yet make me bleed,
Then heal the wound they opened in my heart.
O
lips divine, let mine be not denied—
But live and die where all your kisses hide.
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