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A Kiss



I want a kiss from you lover.

Not a wimpy kiss were my cheek barely feels

your lips as they lightly brush past with that

hurried feeling of duty, no passion.

Not a kiss like I might expect from my grandmother,

all soft lips moistly pressed to my face.

And not a kiss that you might get from a child,

all chocolate and sweet, sticky love.

The kind of kiss I want from you would

start with a caress, I feel your fingers in my hair,

then drawing my face toward you.  Your lips take

mine, tasting gently at first, asking, and receiving

a shared passion.  But a kiss is not just lips reaching

for each other, it is the taste of you I want, the feel,

your beard scratching my skin as you wander to my neck.  

A kiss is your body pressed so close to mine, there is

no beginning or end to us, only the love we feel for

one another, and finally it is our children making fun

of us and you and I ignoring them and smiling at each other

as we continue to hold on, unwilling to let each other go,

for this kiss to end.