What is a Kiss?

What is a kiss if not pure bliss?
Can it be spent or saved, as a coin
dropped in a slot machine, fruit
spinning dials deciding fortunes
outcome from emotion purloined?

Can a kiss be a kiss if not missed?
Where are the dreams of passion
lost in wine soaked hours spent rubbing
the lamp, waiting, hoping genie’s
magic will quell doubtful ration?

Isn’t a kiss the door to a garden
of roses, leading up to a house
with no blinds? Where is the porch
and the light switch to guide me?
Where is the mill of my arousal?

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7 thoughts on “What is a Kiss?

  1. I come here to find a restful break from a night of a misbehaving computer. I find these lovely words to greet me. I especially like these questions at the end.

    “Isn’t a kiss the door to a garden of roses, leading up to a house with no blinds? Where is the porch and the light switch to guide me?”

    Don’t we all long for a house with no blinds and a porch light to guide us? Aren’t we glad at least to have each other as we stumble through the dark?

  2. Kisses, dreams, lights, searching
    You spun a whirl of lovely words and aching questions. Your word choices and metaphors shine in that “garnet” way I adore.
    I hope somone special fulfills this pounding yearning.

  3. Thank you GEL. This poem also wonders, a bit obscurly, whether kisses are the only coins of intimacy, if kisses are the only door to passion.

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