Lips Alexis



She leaned in closer, feeling a breeze from a zephyr. Eyes blue, emerald and reflective, her face dimpled and formed perfectly.  Whispering in his ear a passing word, lulling him, tickling a craving for desire he had long suppressed. Asking him-self if he had at all an idea of his own mortal restraints, clinging on to her word with both ears he whispered in sounds, his vocabulary incoherent. Hoping his eyes would do a dance his words failed to step.  Her lips waited impatiently in front of his, never asking for his attention but asserting their dominance over his passion.  Her lips, tender, made by creation, made for him, made for kissing, made for observing, made for love, designed by fate and crafted by a force with too much lust.  Her lips, that held him by his pulse, hoping that between beats he would reach for their grounds. Her lips, that sang melodies like sirens, that forced him to listen for every syllable attentively and passionately, entwining his sight and sound to their movement that upped his heart and chased his imagination.  Kissing her lips, he hoped he could find a sound that could match their echo, following back their murmurs to sneak his way to their prominent stance.  He thought a word, her word she just spoke, inattentively and unknowingly unaware he asked her what she spoke, and she suddenly became a fatigued figure of a fascination dead.   She no longer spoke to the boy, leaving his imagination to roam free and easy, he begged to see her lips again. And again forever, so unwillingly she would only let him stare.

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