Lipstick on Your Collar

You may be a poet who rings a bell that exists in my memory
Warms me with words from the fabric of your vision
But like lipstick on your collar, I have been left undefined
Likened to a host of lips that make no decision

The warmest heart will shine after a shower of adventure
Then slowly passes to pick up what it can and will
Imagining that elemental kisses will remain so discreet
Because on quick little feet they do softly steal

Hurt runs into the fields beyond, looking for what is stolen
While a downward rain touches on bright faces
You may be a poet who rings a bell in my memories
But your collar does not hold my lipstick’s traces

Inside of your dreams there is a wide sea holding grace
It will give you back the one whom you love
Ring your bell into shadows of her sweet memory
I pray she hears you, that your love is enough

Reviews

[KimLove "The Beautiful ..]

I love this poem for many a reason, not for the metaphor for which Muse saw but for what I read into it. I see a man sitting behind his keyboard, typing away words of love, words of yesterdays gone by. For things he has let slip through his fingers if only he would give up something in order to retrieve what has matter the most. Always has and always will.

[Muse]

RED, and you wear it well Neva! The analogies of love being like lipstick on a man's collar is clever!