You've got a bubbly mouth,
one that rattles off facts and figures,
one that tells the secrets of your life,
the ones you're never bashful about.
I've got to say that I enjoy it,
the taste of it,
the texture, the sound and the fury when I press mine to yours.
And what about mine?
Bubbly? Certainly not.
It wags like a lost dog.
I've forgotten the chance encounter,
Missed the boat on the opportunity to say something charming, something a little more than that which separates the silence.
I can wake, early,
smell my pillowcase,
it's stung with your leftovers--
I cling to every scrap.
A door closed when I opened my lips,
the skipped intervals,
the persuasion of an affair,
all the advances fall flat,
You walked down the hallway,
Opened your mouth and never looked back.