DO NOT LET HIM TELL YOU THAT YOUR MOUTH IS MADE FOR KISSING.

Your mouth is made for the articulate frenzy of revolution, for the

crisp shape of kindness, for lurching picket lines and your

solitary war cry in a law school classroom. It is made

for the brutal pucker of dreaming. Do not let him

cradle your jaw in his audacious hands and

tell you that your mouth is anything

less than the soft and violent

devastation of water, stirring.

The next sentence you begin with "I" -

don't you dare let it end in "love you."