6.09.2007

Last Kiss

If I had known it was to be my last kiss for a year I would have paid greater attention. I would have made it linger or been more inventive. I might have drawn my partner in closer or kept my eyes open to seek a hint of what he was thinking. I might have done a lot of things, but I wouldn’t have pulled away so casually as if the next kiss were waiting for me the next day from the next partner, the one I imagined really wanting me and I really wanting in return, the one with whom I would share a kiss unlike the kiss with the one filling in during a gap where we each found ourselves far from love.

I wonder if during my last kiss, my kissing partner thought of his future girlfriend as his lips touched mine or if he could bury himself in our moment. Had I known I would go kissless for a year, I might have asked that question as we pulled apart, for his answer could have made the kiss significant beyond its lastness, transformed it to a wondrous incident to add to the pages of my life, one to be underlined in pink highlighter, the time I learned what a man was thinking.

But I didn’t ask because I didn’t know. I didn’t know how kissless I would become. And now, a year later, I wonder where all my unused kisses have gone. Are they annoyed and hanging at a bus stop hoping to find someone else to carry them on to an adventure, or are they enjoying a little time for self in the shallow end of a pretty pool with palm trees overhead and waitresses with cocktail trays circling in colorful sarongs and bikini tops? Maybe they’ve enjoyed the time away, a sparing from all the kissing that wasn’t quite right. Or maybe my unused kisses are right here inside me lying dormant waiting to spring forth like a budding virus.

Some days I tell myself that I am the discerning restaurant patron who waits patiently to encounter a tasty dish, that my patience improves my palate by not deadening it with wrong encounters. Those are the strong days, the days I don't ask questions, but just go about my business until the next kiss appears.


10 comments:

QT said...

Maybe they’ve enjoyed the time away, a sparing from all the kissing that wasn’t quite right.

This is so perfect. I have been on this thought train before - but thank you for giving it life, something I couldn't ever do.

flutter said...

I might have asked that question as we pulled apart, for his answer could have made the kiss significant beyond its lastness, transformed it to a wondrous incident to add to the pages of my life, one to be underlined in pink highlighter, the time I learned what a man was thinking.




just immensely gorgeous.

Tabba said...

This post....the longing, the quiet resolution.

Wow. Just wow.

Abigail said...

I just wandered over here from LA Bloggers and/or Neil's and this post blew my mind.

So often I wonder where my unkisses are as well. All those times I've lost my courage or had a cigarette on the front porch instead of another drink on the back.

Thanks for writing this. I'll be back.

jen said...

i love this. all of this. the whimsy and the longing.

and i'd kiss you in a minute.

kristen said...

I loved how you wrote this Dee. You've captured everything here with perfect descriptions and also, a lot of desire. Your next kiss will appear when you least expect it and it will take you by delicious surprise, I know it. xo

Rambler said...

very nicely written, it gives a lot out about the way you feel, nice,

Kathleen said...

sigh...

just perfect.

essgee said...

"just immensely gorgeous" -- I agree.

Deztnie said...

All of your writings are pensive, introspective, well written and a bit lyrical. This one is no exception however, it is also truly poetic.

It is a vision, a melody, a snapshot of a moment easily taken for granted. We often have opportunity to try and remember where was the last place we left our keys. We frequently recall the last word of an argument, trying to prove and reprove our point of view. Or we delight in savoring the memory of the last bite of a delectable meal or the last page of a thrilling book.

But when have we ever taken the time to remember - if even a year later - that moment we don't know at the time will be our last for a while?

How brilliant of you to force into view something so inconsequential and make it not only remarkable, but beautiful. Good stuff! Bravo! A very lovely piece of work!