still, somehow, i miss his

lips, even though our

mouths have only departed

from one another for a

few hours, just like how his

lips part when he mumbles

my name. i miss how soft

they were, with a bushy

trail right above them. i

miss the way i could feel

them with my own, just to

see if i can capture the

memory like taste-buds.

how i wish i could place

my lips gently on his

again, solely for keepsakes.

how i wish his sun would

light the way to a

treasure map of nothing

but his kind words,

slipping through those

lips that i admire dearly.

i wonder if he's scared

to use them, just as i

am scared to lose them.