Musaeus
08-02-2010, 06:27 PM
The kiss
My hand touches her waist, my lips brush her cheek
It is a gesture of politeness and affection;
I tell her how glad I am to have seen her
And how well she has done
That was the opening of the sluice of love -
She does not know how much I long to kiss again
The current flows from me to her;
The resistance in her builds up heat in me
I remember the kiss weeks later
(When other things have happened):
The touch of desire, the herald of love,
The fresh shoots of feeling in my lonely heart.
It is something, nothing, a triviality;
Or a stunning visitation from that fabled goddess
So many other kisses, so much more passionate,
So many hot and naked embraces ….
But which like this in delicacy,
or grace?
In poignancy
and a kind of sweet despair
…………........................
My hand touches her waist, my lips brush her cheek
It is a gesture of politeness and affection;
I tell her how glad I am to have seen her
And how well she has done
That was the opening of the sluice of love -
She does not know how much I long to kiss again
The current flows from me to her;
The resistance in her builds up heat in me
I remember the kiss weeks later
(When other things have happened):
The touch of desire, the herald of love,
The fresh shoots of feeling in my lonely heart.
It is something, nothing, a triviality;
Or a stunning visitation from that fabled goddess
So many other kisses, so much more passionate,
So many hot and naked embraces ….
But which like this in delicacy,
or grace?
In poignancy
and a kind of sweet despair
…………........................