Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Kiss

It's strange to me
that once
all lovers were strangers.
Their kiss
was once a new sensation;
Their touch a map unknown
and unfamiliar.
But in a quiet moment
of watching them kiss, tangled
up in each other's bodies
I see a sensation known, familiar, comfortable.
And I wonder what it takes
to get there.
They seem so certain
of their touch; so conscious and fulfilled.
Their hands know
where to go and how to rest gently
as fire.
When will I be there? I wonder
if I ever will.
I wonder if I'll be a map well worn
to somebody.
A book well read.
A favorite drink, song, poem.
What will I be
to somebody?
I hope that I am known.
That is my deepest wish.
I hope I am touched
and with one hand against mine,
understood.
-k.p.

May 9th, 2017
11:39pm
Tuesday