New Mouth (sestina)

I found myself falling in love

with the way words fell out of your mouth.

The way you slipped your feet into boots,

focusing on the floor for only a second

until you returned my glance, reading me like a journal,

watching me like your favorite movie scene.


Now I’ve watched you watch me and seen

you long for that same love—

the kind I already praise you for in my journal,

the kind that makes me want to kiss your mouth,

that makes you undress in a second.

But I’ve noticed your eyes linger longer on your boots—


your eyes have started to linger on her boots,

your eyes fixate on Girl in movie scene.

I watch you count the seconds

until sleep, while I count the seconds until you love

me again. How long until my mouth

is new? Until you read my eyes like a journal?


I found old love poems in your journal

idolizing my legs in high-heeled boots,

and the red pucker of my mouth

stained with the lipstick of Girl in love scene.

If looks were the motive for love,

I had your heart in a second.


I loved you the second

you held me for the first time. I journaled

about how your smile was filled with love,

about the way you walked in those brown boots,

about how you were a special I’d never before seen.

A perfect pair of lips molded for my old mouth.


Now, closed floodgates are your mouth

holding back more lies by the second.

I won’t be the girl in your final scene,

my body is the only thing loved in your journal,

your eyes hug the floor when you lace your boots.

I crave a forever lost love.


My mouth imprisoned in your journal,

my second act memorizing the scuffs of your boots,

always waiting for the final scene to captivate your love.


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