Pramila Khadun writes

The kiss

A poet worth his mettle

Boiling water in his cute kettle

Told me that kisses will eternally

Remain unsurpassed in beauty.

He kissed me and I was seventeen.

It was my first taste of love’s elixir,

A perfect osmosis without cosmetics,

With charms invariable

And desires unforgettable.

Ethereal and surreal,

It was the zenith of a wish

That left me spellbound

While the thunderstorm obliterated the town.

The kiss had the taste of nectar unblemished,

Making my interior self with light replenished.

Again he kissed me and this time

It had the peachy taste of sweet peach Melba.

Voluntarily or involuntarily absolutely sobered,

It invoked the vision of love making

While lightning flashed across the window panes

Taking us both in its strides.

In reverie and camaraderie

I asked the poet, ‘Is it the beginning of a lifetime love?’

In a hushed whisper , he replied,

‘The lifetime love is in the now.’

I smiled while the rain drizzled

And the scent of geranium and oregano

Rose joyously in the air.

The sun shone through rain

Making a radiant rainbow

And love shone in between our lips

With exuberant ecstasy

While the unbridled passions

Slowly empowered our frail bodies.

 

The Kiss -- Man Ray