KISSING

In praise of kissing....

When we kiss for a frolicking age
And mouths and tongues and stuff
Wind our hearts up to a fearsome rage
And neither of us can call "enough!"
I know the words we might have said
Will wait awhile, yes, maybe till we're dead.

That's what kissing is, my dear,
The touching of moist mouths and hearts
And the certainty we're always here
Where flesh and hoping never parts;
We'll be loving lovers, always will 
Until our beating hearts are still.

At least that's the dream, and with this kiss
This tingling taste of what we are
This hoped for agony of rich moist bliss
That's almost comic, very near bizarre,
And we must cling together like we do
Beyond the grave, beyond this taste of you.