Heart of the Mouth

Those lips—where faith is restored

In long forgotten lands, where 

Deep-running waters course through 

Underground caverns, like hair 

In the wind—ask me closer.

Those lips, whose purpose is clear

Enough to drink, like citrus 

On the tongue, attention they

Command.  Those lips, when they move

Tell me listen, “Did you hear

Rumbling earth, schisms of heart

Shuffled back into the deck?”

Those lips worn in front, pouting 

To achieve effect, against 

My neck pressed, warm breath like steam

From volcanic mouth, part to 

Show the teeth.  Those lips wander 

Into limbo, hardly look 

Back, as if behind doesn’t 

Count, even if it circles 

Around for another pass,

Insists on being taken 

Seriously, not unlike

A natural disaster,

Tornado or typhoon, come

Ashore in a torrential 

Rage, those lips, heart of the mouth.