Beside her open lip's, one's green and white
by James McLain
Say her and I.
Chance's missed on purpose when were young
And urge's we both had like you and I.
Only here to us do words mean more, more
Than words should mean to us out there.
Decernment and with grace they should mean more,
But his lips don't move as often as hers do.
The skill she has it plays upon his heart
And when touched by him right there it's always hot.
He has no useful need to drink strong wine,
She thinks that his long island iced teas are much to strong.
Eye's bluer than the bluest sky are even brighter in the night
And the star's are more than blue and white a snowy mountain is.
In wait and open even in deep sleep, he hears her but he
Knows it naught she hears.
Quite desperation and it's obvious, how to never let it show
Them green and white they tremble so.
Across a finger length wise but what of the missed snow?
She needs to hear him say that he loves her and lost to only
Him is the power of the like.
And should she know his name but never asked,
Gone right past them both alone the chance they missed.