at the tips of our fingers

i see it in your eyes
caught between hard rock
and my hard place
and your face tells me
para
but your eyes
are greedy like virgin politicians
jacking peter to pay paul who's trickin' on mary
and then you mutter
another name for the creator
as i trace my last kiss on your neck
i made sure to check your smile
to see if you forgot me
and i saw myself locked away safe
in the slow blush of your cheeks
weeks will pass between us
and so will emotions
except the one
that lies at the tips of our fingers
and behind cautious lips