Lips, Teeth, Tip of the Tongue: A poem

Lips, teeth, tip of the tongue

Sweet melody of music

Primed to be sung

The perfect intonation has only just begun

From his lips, teeth, and the tip of his tongue.

The smoothest cresendo

No pause in between

Notes flitter and flutter

The song now resonating

Floating past sharps and flats and keys yet to be rung

The man, perfect in his ways

From his lips

His teeth

And the tip of his tongue.

His music enraptures

My heart still in race

Enthralled by the beauty of each rhythmic embrace

Still I settle euphoric

His solo now sung

Our duet lives unending

From our Lips

Our Teeth

The tips of our tongues

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