A kiss is...
An act:
I kiss you, because it is the only way for me to simplify, how I feel for you without my chest feeling like it will explode; because the intensity of my feelings for you is so strong, that I need to act as if I didn't care. So you don't find out how much I really do.
A confession:
I press my lips to yours in a desperate attempt to confess how I want you. We use our mouths to speak, our lips are the seal that stop my words from tumbling fruitlessly, without thought from my mouth.
So maybe if I kiss you I can find a way to confess my words of love through our lips, so I don't have to suffer saying them out loud.
A secret...
Please don't tell. And even if you did I don't know who you would tell because it's not like I know many people and even if the rumor got out the only person I'm really scared of is the one under my bed that sneaks in next to me at night. Because somehow my reflection seems to hate me, and this is really hard so please as I try to tell you this without words and just actions using my lips, can you promise me you'll keep it a secret?
A question...
I really have no clue what I'm doing
Thrilling...
I never liked triller movies because I didn't understand that it was a mixture between action and horror and the thought of sitting there watching something play out before your eyes is so different then a few minutes ago when your lips were on mine and it was thrilling
Anxious...
We're sitting in silence now and you haven't said a thing since my lips felt yours and now I'm not sure if maybe I was just so caught up in the scene of the movie that maybe I imagined it all and so many Maybe's are running through my head, and it's making me sick, and I notice the lack of commas and overused And's that I use when I'm anxious and it always use to make you laugh but now I'm not sure of myself.
Ardent..
The push. The pull. Grasping. Falling, the remote is falling off the couch and the movie is forgotten and now I'm falling but you catch me. And for a moment I'm scared. And then that moment passes, and I'm feeling ardent.
Content...
I used to think a kiss was everything. That it was a way to connect and feel the other person in a different way. And it is. In some way. When I met you my first reaction was to be offended, because you didn't think the same way I did. Your thoughts were new and different then mine and that new thing in my life was threatening. And maybe a kiss doesn't mean everything, maybe it's doesn't mean anything and rumors make it sound like something. It's just skin to skin contact, with your mouth. The most random multi-purpose part of your body. And somehow holding hands with you was more exilerating then kissing was. Because with my hands I made music, I wrote, I drew. I created things and when you were holding them it felt like purpose.
So going back to us on the couch. You whisper my name and for a second I don't recognize it. Because you've never said it like that before.
I want to tell you not to move. Because even though I don't have the art skill to capture your beauty, I can imagine what it might look like on paper. You lean down and press a secret to my cheek. Then one to my ear, my forehead. And soon I feel that nothing has to happen.
But that doesn't mean that something isn't happening.
And I'm content in that.
