Mistaken love

My mouth is a fault line that
you are afraid to approach,
so I smile like frowning is
a curse.

I angle my neck to match yours
and like swans we dance, I hope
to love eternally.

I enjoy the sweet sting of your
lips, but the after taste is different.

I smile at you blindly and silently
wink. There is nothing more to give.

You pant “we've started something
that was nothing in the first place”
I feel something in my bones.

I turn in my stained lips to you,
your words although spat and cold
do not hurt me. It's my mistake.