I don't know
what your lips are made of

- but they look so delicious and sweet.

Could you please reveal me

the recipe of your lips?

I really want to know

what they are made of

- those red, ripe, rippling lips,

harbinger of eternal bliss.

Your lips

have the radiance

of the moon

on which

an accomplished artist

has sculptured

the features of an eternity.

I really want to

 pay tribute to your lips

 – everyday and every night,

every moment without respite,

I long for those lips.

The rippling mists

 on your lips

 sing a solemn,

‘emancipate us, please,’

song to me.  

How can lips like yours

be left unkissed

and left in some forgotten pages

in the book of history?

Copyright 2009 Bhuwan Thapaliya