He’s kissing your lips, Not you.

You're kissing him,

but he's not kissing you.

He's not feeling the same way you are,

and he's not looking for the same thing.

Your eyes meet, but it's at a crossroad;

they choose different directions.

Yours: senses and feelings

His mouth tastes like cigarettes

Soon enough, you'll be a chain smoker

His eyes are like oceans,

except less of a cliché 

Waves drift down your body,

tugging at your bra, 

lifting up your shirt 

He doesn't want to fuck your mind 

or ride through the depths of your thoughts 

He yearns for flesh.

Panties at your knees,

skirt flung across the room

You want him to look at your naked soul, but

Your body is all he sees.

I'm sorry,

but he's kissing your lips,

Not you.