Mmm your lips.
Plump, juicy, filled with jelly lips.
Sensual, soft, powdered sugar lips.
I slow down time when you put on that red lipstick.
Da Vinci’s paint brush strokes the curves of your lips.
They bleed red.
Your red lipstick illuminates the dark.
It makes bright days, brighter.
If only you could smear your red lipstick on my chest, neck, forehead and lips.
Paint my body with that red lipstick.
Smear it, smear it on me baby.
You’re naked, put on some red lipstick.
All other makeup is worthless.
All I need are your red lips.
Your lips are a sunset, a fire, a rose.
It is a plump tomato, a moist strawberry, a cherry, a raspberry… jam.
Kissing your lips would be to take a bite out of a salacious apple.
To kiss your lips would be to kiss a heart.
I want to be your red lipstick.
But it belongs to someone else.
How lucky his lips are.
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