Red as rose hip, plump
And ripe, your lips smack
Against mine. Their touch,
Tender, tingles my tongue
And fills the air with a fine,
Fruity fragrance. As we pull
Apart, sweet songs spill
From your saccharine spout.
But your wispy words pale
Before the pounding
On my heart, who commands
You come closer.
And though my mouth can’t manage
A single sentence.
You see the longing left
Aglimmer in my eye.
A first kiss deserves a second.
He Who Wanders 