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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


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© Richie Smith 

© Richie Smith