---

Susan K. Rowse

The Kiss

This spirit entered hearts in unspoken circumstance
The nudge of nothing whispered deep its time to take this dance
The lips of pink, a rosy flush...the dew that sparkled eyes
Unbridled charm...a jesters wit...passions undisguised
Words that speak of promised eons...verbiage ever bolder
Lightening waltzing flesh to flesh...dressing down the shoulders
Lips of moisture opened slight to carry whispered plans
A tongue to lick the dewdrops clean...an oath for which she stands
Come here to me...closer still, as shadows dance with light
Tongues reach out to lick each word...provocative stormy night
This woman and her mighty man...this kiss that beckons more
The moans that slice a piece of her...his tongue that bites the core
This fuzzy thirst of opened wounds healing with loves glue
Her stare to him...his eyes of brown...and hers of baby blue
Spoken passions, whispered shut and dizzy lifts that zoom
Uplifted forms dance free of weight in the spinning of this room
The kiss that clings and tongues that weave in total ecstasy
Love takes hold...etches the hearts...in red hot intimacy
Arms entwined and passions keep...as mouths take hold of lips
Breaths are shallow with each sigh and love takes kissing sips
Then sweeter gulps of first kiss blooms and souls let go of pains
When lovers kiss their beginning kiss and showers turn to rain
Then thunder takes a hold of loins and heat keeps rising still
The kiss becomes the pleasures of souls that burn with chills
Their greeting welds together hearts...from kiss to burning skin
Molded forms, erotic play...a statue by Rodin
The figures of lovers steeped in passions locked embrace
The fever of these two who wear loves smile upon their face
This kiss, the whispered wet and wild...beginning of a chance
The arms that seal each moment there in fates enveloped dance