It's Still Life

A Love Poem Isn’t About

feeling someone else’s
tongue in your mouth,

or a quick around a bit
of curvaceousness,

or a rising desire or even
someone’s fumey breath,

but perhaps it’s about
the scent of rose water,

or the memory of a day
that linger like a first kiss,

or waltzes, in-step with
perfumed air, milky skin,

mint ice cream, or those
intricate twists of touch,

or affection … but never
the agonies of lust, and

have I told you lately that
your lips taste of ginger.

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This is a draft, and not a very good one at that. Bits are salvageable though. Written for Miz Quickly’s 16 December: Some People Are Good At Titles. Photo by János Patrik and  Toufic Mobarak on Unsplash ©Misky 2021 Shared with #apoemaday on Twitter