A Song Born of Your Kiss

Your lips,
my only shelter
from the storm
of unsaid things.

What is desire,
with no place to land,
but a faltering flame
on my withered mouth,
parched for your breath?

They were never beautiful
until your warmth
unfolded them,
never a song
until your kiss
gave them rhyme.

Without you,
they are only silence,
longing
to be spoken
back
into love.