Lip Language

And there she stood.

Mascara running down her face.

Her hair knotted in soaked locks.

Clothes, wet, clinging to her body.

Every curve and feature magnified.

He’d never seen a creature more beautiful

With more vulnerability than she had

In that one moment.

Cold was seeping into his bones

And an ember grew in his eyes.

He could have eaten her up on the spot

She looked so glorious standing there.

His precious angel, all soaked

Was waiting for him to take her

And claim her

And make her his

And show her that she,

With her scars,

Her stretchmarks,

Her broken soul,

Her cracked lips

Could be beautiful.

In one swift motion, he pressed his lips to hers.

Such burning desire overtook them.

They didn’t break.

His heart, pounding, wrote her

The most lovely love song.

She almost flat-lined.

The passion struck her hard in the stomach.

Together, they created,

In that moment,

The rawest form of love ever found.


For that moment,

She felt something she had never felt before.

Where it came from,

She did not know.

Maybe his heart

Or maybe his soul.

Maybe he had they key to unlock

In her

What she had been craving all along.

It was rare and pure, that moment.

Where he,

The love-sick boy

Made her

The sick-of-life girl

Feel beautiful

And alive.

And every damn heartbreak before him

Was now worth the pain.

And every damn dream before him

Was worth dreaming again.

And every damn tear shed before him

Was no longer in vain.

And every damn time she felt unbeautiful

She would remember this kiss

And her lungs would fill

Her heart would flutter

And she,

The one so cold,

Would be able to light the world on fire.


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