Her mouth is like a secret that promises to be unforgetable...
as are the thoughts of a short encounter. Dry in the winter and cracked from humor, her mouth tinged by the desire envelopee by the filter. As she takes a drag smoke seeps and pours through her lungs as the secret's hope of recognition pounds through her aching head.
...Whispering sweet nothings waiting to be said.
To you my little uncertainty.