Gently, deliberately, my lips caress your cheek.
There is no sexuality in this for me now.
This is not meant to be sensual.
My lips are home to a hundred thousand nerves, each one firing off at the touch of your skin.
My lips are sensitive and feeling.
In two weeks,
in two days,
I will forget what your cheek looks like.
But I will never forget how it feels to my lips, gently pressed against it.
And I will never forget the suction smack sound as I remove my lips from you forever.
I cup your face in my hands,
drown myself in your gaze as I try,
in vain,
to memorize your eyes.
But my fingers will never forget
how it feels
to catch your tears.
