At first
our mouthes would fumble
seeking
so unsure and so unsteady
grasping for a fit
some carnal knowledge
some divine enchantment
holding us like roles in romance fiction
we would
press our mouthes together
and feel chrysalises breaking
in our hearts.

But now each tick-tock dissipates
the clock hands wear away and time
has whisked away to some degree
our beautiful elation-
in its stead,
has put a groove in which to sit and nestle
sweetly in a space
with room for only us
a space that fits just so, and so
it never moves,
oh not one inch.

Funny how this tick and tock
can take away our jubilation,
leave us with a calming sense of sedentary...
Here we are,
in dark and hush and quiet
once again and we are laying
in our grooves like graves in which we lay cold bodies-
We are fearing death inside of poignant stagnancy
inside of stoney towers
changing all our sacred butterflies
into these spoiled mothes.

And so with fear and change on gilded lips
they grazed
and caught a flash
of some archaic wisdom.

They graze again
and wander
linger
finding curves they overlooked
with the early haste
of finding something stable.

Graze
wander
linger
soft and wet and sweet
smooth and new
intoxicating,
poems reminiscing
poems there depicting
wonder
glory
there depicting 'us'
before we knew it was a word
and hearts colliding
beating, dreaming
filling brim to brim and over flowing...

I lost my breath when you reached for me-
had forgotten that smile
that floored-at-this smile,
that mid-kiss giggle we kept to ourselves,
spilled to eachother in summers spent ages ago.

One kiss
resurected.

Our chests gathered wings
and took off.

04/09/2005

Author's Note: This is a poem about one kiss. A slice of the big picture.

Posted on 04/09/2005
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia