My mouth makes pretty singy-song noises. It is scarred and asymmetrical from that faceplant off a bunk bed in college, but when the pressure rises, this mouth can fire off some zingers like you wouldn’t believe.
My mouth is frequently humming or singing. It has a (charming?) Drew-Barrymore lisp, especially when I am sleepy. My mouth says things that surprise me, instead of holding on to things I regret keeping to myself. My mouth quirks and twists in hundreds of ways, and it looks nice in pictures.
My mouth has ten levels of smiles, from fake grimace to where-did-her-eyes-go hilarity. If you could still see my pupils when I smiled, that means it was fake. If my mouth was uneven when I smiled at you, I think you’re funny. If my mouth was closed around you, that means you intimidate me. If my lips thinned when you were talking, it means you’re pissing me off.
If my mouth has teased you more than once, it means I frigging love you.