Kissing You

Kissing You

Kissing was not my thing. Exchanging spit, breathing in exhaled carbon dioxide. But kissing you was like eating candy, delicious and wanting. A midnight stroll down a wooded path, blossoms fragrant in the evening air, or a cool spring swim, waves lapping my skin, the twinkling sun filling my world with warmth. I wanted to be closer to you, devour you, drift into your orbit. I wanted to open myself to you so you could see me, taste me. What a power you had over me. Such need. Frowning my mother called it a hold. She claimed I would walk through hot coals if you were to beckon from the other side… She was right. The power you had. You held my heart in your hand. Until you squeezed

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