A Kiss Is Not Just That

To call it just a kiss
would be unjust
For it wasn't just that.

It wasn't just our lips
that met;
Nor just our tongues
that battled.

It was my having you,
And your having me.
Not simply having me,
But having me,
My I,
My self;

It was my having you
in those moments
as flickery as the
candle flame
that flickered
as we kissed.

I discovered
a whole new
You!
I tasted the coffee that'd
burnt your tongue
this morning.
My tongue sympathised
with yours.

I chanced upon
that fibre of bhutta--
stuck adamantly between
the spaces of your teeth--
you'd just had.

I sensed my name that'd
rolled off your tongue
ever so tenderly
before you'd leaned forward
to kiss
Me.

It still sat there,
It sat there still.

There were the invectives too
that you'd used to curse
a reckless fellow driver
while driving on the road.

The fine words of praise
you'd showered upon me
clung to the wall of your mouth
and sweetened mine
as we kissed
under the moon
that looked like
a large water-melon wedge
coated with fine and delicate silver foil
juicy and edible.

Then there were also
those three treacherous words,
hidden in a dark corner
of your mouth,
waiting to pop out
as soon as the kiss
were to end.

"I love you!"
You would have said,
had I not continued
kissing you ceaselessly.

To call it just a kiss
would be unjust;
For this kiss averted
a disaster too!

~ aviD