Now we are apart I think about kissing all the time. I think about kissing you. I think about the act of kissing. I think about the feel of your soft lips, slightly moist, never demanding. My eyes closed I can conjur the taste, the texture, then the action quite convincingly from my memory. My favorite is the moment just before the kiss. The catch of breath, the holding. That pause. The anticipation is the hottest. The sultriest. The kiss is the introduction to it all; touch, pleasure, caress, savor. It is the sweetest anticipation.
With my eyes closed, in that pause, I can be anywhere. I can be in a crowded jazz club in a dark corner. I can be on public transit in the last seat of the car. I can be standing on a sidewalk letting the crowd flow by me and wonder, some in disgust. I can be on our couch, in our living room. The phone rings and we ignore it. We could be kissing someone or somewhere we shouldn’t be, risking discovery, the risk thrills me next to my heart in the center of my chest. The savor of anticipation is the best part.
After antipation, the exploration. Lips, slightly open, barely touching, then touching fully. A pause breathing each other’s breath. Then an other, sudden, full kiss, mouth slightly open, this time your tongue runs into mine. Rearrange slightly, bend the head, adjust the lips, accommodate the new feel. Create a rhthym. Still, barely moving, resting to feel, like taking a temperature. Then slowly moving slowly growing faster slow growing harder and the agreement to close, to end… that first kiss. Gently. Savor the parting moment. And again it is anticipation. When will they come back to me? It can go on like this for hours. Endless cycles of anticipation, introduction to parting to anticipation all over again.
It is my favorite moment of imagination these days. Now that he is gone, my favorite distraction. I wait to close my eyes and cycle again, endlessly.