he had lips that never

fit

one perfect adjective

they were

rosebud maybe, or peppermint

cashmere, butter,

snagging like egyptian cotton

and h(e)ated

metallic

fevered

sex swollen

peppery

the exact shape of a

peter pan collar.

but his eyes

(always stayed the same)

couldn't be described

as anything but

cut out of celery-green

and framed by the shreds.