There is something that lives
in a woman's kiss,
behind the pleasure
of her lips slipping
against mine,
sof' friction awakening
the beast in the soul.
It is something to know
how a woman tastes—
tongue touch tongue
soul touch soul—
impossible
to better comprehend
anyone,
to reveal yourself,
naked to her palate,
pure.
It was a kiss that made me,
a kiss that destroyed me,
a kiss that consoled me,
a kiss that controlled me,
but only one kiss to save me:
the one from those
luscious lollie lickin' lips
that let the sun rise
once again
on this languid life
and left me lost
to anything less
than our destinies,
intertwined
like the ideal
lustful, lingering, loving
kiss.
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