I don’t remember our last
It wasn’t our first kiss, and neither exactly was it our last.
It was a parking lot Passion Play
and after arriving I leaned in for a kiss
and with a coy smile you deftly avoided me, edging out of the car and telling me to wait.
I’ve never been good at following directions.
I hit you with my best smiles, lines and rhymes hoping to taste that…
whatever it is… when I press my lips to yours.
And you dart away again, your playful smile fading into a stubborn one, telling me again to wait.
Clearly you have some plan or ploy, to heighten my desire for your lips and it works. One of those ridiculous arguments later, a short skirmish over love’s
less discussed lessons.
Thinking back i can’t decide if it’s ugly or beautiful that one of our last moments together was arguing about a kiss.
And then we fell into that happy stride, you had a coy, aloof little smile and gave me those telling, burning looks, letting me know to be patient.
And I haltingly, grudgingly, and notwantingly was patient.
I was patient as life happened.
I was patient as second thoughts happened.
I was patient when the phone call didn’t come.
I was patient when you told me love had faded.
I don’t remember the last time we smashed the universe into its component pieces and realigned the stars in a myopic collection of feelings and bright lights, the future blasted so far beyond that only brief spots on my retinas remind me that it was ever there at all. And having that transcendent moment of self when the world slows and narrows to one, beautiful and tantalizing moment that seems to last forever yet has that horrible distant twinge that no matter how long we stay in a universe of dazed bliss at some point eyes will open and the moment will end, and a follow up kiss to remind my subconscious you haven’t gone far and heaven’s only so far away.
I remember kissing you but I don’t remember our last kiss.
I remember when you wouldn’t kiss me but wanted to.
I remember and hope I never forget
love’s less discussed lessons