Remembering.What.Kissing.Feels.Like
Her hands are roving wishers
trying to grasp me this night
For I have very few nights left to give
And a guarded heart at that
But these things don’t phase her
Or so she makes it out to seem
So i cradle her; unending night
A quiet lullaby of satisfaction
And I remember what kissing is like
(the old k-i-s-s-i-n-g)
The awkward naive kind.
The kind I always liked best.
It wasn’t great, it wasn’t skilled
It was impassioned and paced
A well meaning hand
On her hip
It wasn’t like we were married
But for brief, quite brief minutes
Her dry lips
My knee between her legs
There is nothing good to come of this sort of thing
Because I feel in the heat of passion my heart comes out
I let my hands go where they please
My hips and thrusts have a mind of their own
-On her bed
All year nothing like this
No soft reclusion receding
No explosions of bliss
But this
But This!
This! it was….well it was!
