Your red lips were the keys
to my smoky recycled heart,
You placed a kiss on my forehead,
I felt my blood flowing freely again,
like someone must have left the tap running.
It felt like humanity has just been re-discovered.
But those lips,
I should have asked, why they were so red,
as red as freshly plucked chilli peppers
I should have noticed that red represented danger
I should have questioned why you had the same color of hair, and even your nails
But you never let me speak
You only hush me like a puppy
But I'm nobody's hushpuppy
I'm nobody's sex puppet.
Little did I know,
when those lips operated on my heart
they must have injected some type of artistic poison
I'm somewhere in Africa painting black walls,
drawing the same red lips.
Wherever you are,
Accept my piece of art,
as a gratitude for this artistic venom
without a cure.
Poetry by : @nobthepoet
#bisolamichal #artismyholiday #wallPainting #red #colours