You pulled me close,
Leaned down,
And our lips
Locked on collision.
Your tongue sliced
Like a blade through an envelope
And reached into my mouth for mine.
When they connected
I picked up the stale taste
Of cigarettes, musty, like damp air
On a muggy morning,
The sour and deadly perfume
Of burnt leaves.
For the most part,
I lived for your kisses,
But I never stopped wishing
That they tasted a bit nicer.