Kisses
A kiss is like a dress falling off a tall building.
Sometimes it flutters, slowly, softly, to the ground
delicate, intricate white lace pooling at his feet.
Other times a bead sewed to your breast drags it down
bringing it crashing to the floor, and in the confusion,
you're not quite sure what has happened, or why,
or even who you are any more.
One time, it slipped off your shoulders like it was velvet,
leaving tingles and rays of introverted sun in its wake,
and you weren't even sure when the dress hit the ground
because your sun was shining too brightly
for you to see anything else.
