ian: on the fourth of july

your lips the softest
set i've ever placed
mine own against (like
kissing clouds or feath-
ers)

teasing ticklish
kisses (your moustache
just as soft and un-
abrasive as your
lips) that caused a hung-
er in my own

a longing to press
touch and blend mouths; lips
again and again
until Time ceased to
Be (go by)

* * *

in the morning i
woke you with my lips;
parted the plush boun-
daries of your mouth
with hair and teeth and
hunger.

saddened, that this par-
ting of lips meant par-
ting of ways. that Time
would not yield to tick-
lish kisses

yet happy still our
lips had met and played
and parted and would
meet again; my lips 'til
then starved (starving).