Blink On, Orange Fishnets

When I first
met your mouth
it made no sense
and you, behind it
your arms folded
small and strange.

It was both
cold and warm;
clearly unbrushed,
peeking
lovely.

Now your face
knows mine
and I am
fluent in your
tongue.

I look back, yeah.

Your mouth
makes no sense
but now it's
where I'm from.