And thick and full. I want to part them, kiss
Them moist, brush them with my fingers, keep fed
Your thoughts I may have tried to lead amiss.
If the lips I speak of in this verse
Are those you use to kiss and breathe and eat,
I know that you would never think to curse
This as anything but a romantic feat.
Why cannot speaking of those further down
Be so expressed in all our poetry,
As this? Why must these lips bring such a frown
Of disapproval--they should be set free.
Beautiful, romantic, and not perverse,
Those that think not, it's their souls that are worse.
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