POEM 139: KISSES MAKES ME TIPSY

For every kiss on the lips, 
there is a rose in hand
and a staggering mock dance
possessing wandering limbs.

For every beat of your heart
There is a smile sitting on my face...
Found, in you, the winning horse in a race
I'll ride hard until the finish line.

For tips touched and tipsy kisses
I'm drunk, down and drowning in you.

- Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu


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