The Kiss
When there’s just us
And we kiss,
I seek
the thrill,
the bliss,
of more than a buss
or peck
on the cheek—
those alone give me a chill;
I expect
something real,
something profound,
that makes time
and hearts stand still
or at least skip
a beat;
my bell is rung,
and I'm driven to rhyme
by the feel
of the matchless treat
of an embrace
that has the two of us
face to face,
lip to lip,
tongue to tongue,
your back,
soft and warm,
in the crook
of my arm,
a look
of pleasant surprise
in your eyes,
and the crack
of bones in my neck
the only sound
for miles around.
For
other poems by
J. G. Braddock Sr.
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