The Kiss…

Prelude to a Kiss

Closing my eyes,
seeing you,
picturing your moonlit face,
barely perceptible sideburns of down.

Lifting my finger to that
dust of hair on your cheek,

ruffling it against the grain of the light
until it’s a milky powder.

Bringing my face to yours,
our mouths aligning,
but not yet kissing.

Somehow able to stave off
the gnawing hunger.

Our lips grazing, adjusting,
making the slightest calibrations
of angle and shape
as if we were whispering
into each other’s breaths.

Both of us straining
against a raging fire of desire
to make our first kiss,
a kiss I know I have been waiting for
for a long time,
to make it as close
to perfect as possible.

And it was…

— Edward-Yemíl Rosario © 2008


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