My Unstable Poetry

Lips Like A Lollie

"You have lips like a Lollie!," he said, breaking off from what I just experienced that gave me more than sparks, it made me feel queasy. Queasy as in I just had my shoulders put back by my mum. Queasy as in I just brushed by teeth and drank orange juice. Queasy as in I'm so high I could go over the galaxies edge.

"And what does that mean?," I respond, putting my arms around his torso. I bite down on my lip. A habit cannot be broken until you work to break it.

He says it's cute. So I don't break it.

"Well....," he said stumbling over the two L's. His worst letters to say. I giggle. And my cheeks turn the lightest shade of rose pink.

"Lips like a Lollie.....sweet, addicting, and.....full of surprises.....," he says not looking down, but straight at your lips. And I forget to realize him tripping over his L's.

I can now feel my cheeks turn the darkest red-flower color ever. Like those red folders your teachers hand out and no one uses them, that's the color.

He wistfully wraps his arms around my waist. Going closer, he skims his lips over mine. But before our daring lips touch he says:

"Lips like a Lollie," then giggles, "I really really love you."