When
does a kiss begin?
Does
it begin with the warmth of a jumbles-crunched blanket
Between
two smiling, lightly touching bodies
Caressed
with good morning eyes and slowly waking limbs knowing
that
they are in the right place?
Or
does it begin at a greeting door, with a question,
A brief
touch, hope and curiosity? Or soon after
at a meal eaten table, lights dancing off empty wine glasses, with softening
lips and firming optimism, when hope becomes raucous laughter and a knowing
comfort that each lip, plate and glass is in the right place?
Or
is it before that? Is it every step before? The understanding that the
fifty-eight facets of a brilliant cut diamond, side by side, dance differently
with each jeweler’s craft. Reflections that understand each is perfect and in
the right place?
Whenever
it is, I am glad that kisses begin.
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