Your lips are rough 

They scar mine when we kiss, sandpaper against flesh, a lion's tongue.

That's what you are

Your lips are bleeding.

They have bled many times over, skin cracked and torn, scabbed, again and again

again and again

Whether you laugh, or talk or frown, 

you bleed

When you kiss me with that mouth of yours, 

you paint with scarlet strokes, 

when all I want is a blank canvas 

for my own paint and some free flow

Your lips

are home

So kiss me once more