The thing I miss most about kissing is what happens just before
the kiss
That point of light so infinitesimal that everything else is left behind
As though time itself was taking notes on what is about to happen so it
can plan it’s future accordingly.

You’re left alone in this space
This place of pre-fusion
With perhaps only the time to think,
eyes open or closed?
If in fact you can think at all
The heat being generated
By the anticipation of contact
Could light the fires of a thousand burned out stars
And inspire supernovas
to be better
to do more
The breath, held, can’t help but brazenly share itself
And when it realizes,
it likes this feeling
and wants more
Will pull as much as breath can pull
Just to have you there
In such a way that intangibility
Desires to become tangible
And when it does
Oh, baby! Now that’s a kiss.
As my toes would say.