Lips of Poetry

Long after your kiss

My lips throb

Tremble

Shiver

Open like the pages

Of a poetry book

Blown by a cool breeze

I speak only poems then

Written by your lips

The Next Station is. . .

The digital voices announce

Your station

I deboard

And wait

For you

Knowing

That you won’t come

I wait

Till the end of time

When every metro takes

Its last electric breath

And the station is

A graveyard of trains

I remain there

Waiting

Like

An unheard announcement