Select Page

Lip Balm

Jun 26, 2016 | Poetry

An ointment tastes

of things I’ve lost

 

Caked on at night

By morning an arid cracking of my youth

 

Fissured salt flats and an alien moon

Peppered splinter ground in cedar

 

Hypoglossal hints of eucalyptus

carbonated with ozone thrusts

 

Hiss and steam, cheek to lingual buds

The ferric twang of denuded lip

 

And always the moisture

Of another man’s kiss

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

© Richie Smith 

© Richie Smith