An Annoying Struggle With Three Little Words

As always, comments / criticisms / deconstructions are entirely welcome. Don't hold back.

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An Annoying Struggle With Three Little Words

She's in my bathtub.
Nipples just below the surface, so
lips and nose get a shock of hot water
as I lean in to kiss.

The words are in my mouth.
I keep my lips shut so they don't escape.
Those little monsters wriggle on my tongue
and tap on my teeth.
Sorry, it's not time yet.

She sighs and confesses:
No one's ever kissed my eyes before.
And her in her thirties!
What is wrong with this world?
Who are these other men?
I'm not so special, really.
But, jesus.
You men out there.
What is your problem?
Kiss those eyes, for god's sake.

Those words are back.
Let us out! Let us out!
I let them think they've won,
and then derail:
I love your neck.
I love your jaw.
I love what your upper teeth do when you smile.
The words are not happy.
They've been tricked.

I'm kissing her back.
I've got this idea for a poem.
I should be writing it down
but it doesn't seem so important.
She makes that sound she makes:
mm.
Not a gasp, not a moan, not mmm.
Three m's is too many.
mm.
The words want to answer.
They are demanding time for a response.

Listen, words!
Don't be so impatient.
When the time comes,
I will whisper you
to your heart's content.
I will write you on her skin.
I will set you free,
and you can show me
what you are made of.