I Can See Her Lips Right Through Her Face Poem by James McLain

She lifts her skirt and
I can see her lips right through her face.
A face thats tight,
A face that is emerald green, stuck upon her face.
With lips that move like a dream when
Your asleep.
The moon here's out of reach even though it's full
It's pinkish white covered up in clouds.
Like an oyster that I eat, come every night.
My tounge is long and straight it pierced the day.
While the bushes with green leaves lay hidden from
My gaze.
I can see her lips right through her face.