I have kissed him many times.
This kiss, was a first.
Perhaps even a different feeling.
One time he kissed me.
I could taste his mind was somewhere, where he shouldn’t be.
Some kisses we kissed, a quick goodbye or a ‘we’ll text later’.
The click of the door, falling behind me, is what I still reminisce.
This time his kiss tasted comfortable.
Of course we had kissed already many times.
I can’t tell if it was time specific or the recurrance of the happening of this kiss.
‘Was it comfortable for him to kiss me?’
‘Was his kiss comfortable?’
It felt like a comfort, he was glad to see me.
He always does, I can see it in his eyes.
When it comes to my senses and the men I kissed.
Perhaps it is something more spiritual.
I have had nervous kisses, someone that didn’t wanted to kiss me.
Even a kiss with the taste he really liked me.
It gives me a taste of what kind of kiss belongs to me.
Not a feeling or thought makes me wonder.
Something I am collecting with men I have been kissing.
You can call it a cabinet of rarities, one that is safe with me.
It is intented this way, for me to keep looking.
Till I find that one kiss, that says ‘I love you’.