Lips

Lips

Old lips wear out
They crack they peal
They get get licked
Or layered with lippy

Old lips touch and go
The action smooth
From years of practice
A brush not a kiss

Sometimes one makes
a kissing sound
To simulate
A caress not a brush

Sometimes the other
Moans with the kiss
Especially at night
After a busy day

Television reminds them
Of passions past
Of soft parted lips
Locked in desire

They sit together
Holding hands to wonder
where love has gone
(but it hasn't)