Tremor Poem by Kathryn Garner

i always felt the tremor in his lips
no matter how the kiss
became presentable for an appearance
but was it rage or love?
and for me?
or what he'd done?
he was like water
with a insegnificant pebble
dropped to break the suface
the sex, the way he moved
even the ripped skin
so very smooth
as it glides over the bumps
of frustration
for an interruption
a grace to hide the place
where its feelings reside
and i still wonder about the tremor
from spilling love, or the hate that hides?