Kisses

Black hole kisses

Sucking me out of myself.

Kisses wrapped in hugs.

Intimate moments at intimate times.

Memories to treasure

On a cold winter night.

We once played a New Year Game

In which you kissed a girl

Then swopped her with another:

Twenty or so kisses

To compare.

One kiss so wide

I could hardly stretch

To meet it.

Ending up

Trust me,

With the big fat unresponsive one

Too drunk

To even know

She was being kissed.

Recall one time being coolly kissed

Politely:

A kiss that said

In no uncertain terms –

If you want passion

You’d better go elsewhere

My dear.

For kisses are like handshakes:

Some firm and friendly;

Others too hard

Or too limp.

The young don’t always get it:

Lettuce limp

With their customary hands.

Physical expression

A dying art

Like conversation

In this digital age

Of mobile phones

Snapchats

And Insta-Images.

Time to rekindle the past,

Go back to playing out –

And away!

Get mud sucked mucky

All gloves off.

Back to Basics,

That’s The Way.

Paul Butters

© PB 5\2\2019.