Kiss

This is not your kiss

I give you not my kiss

this kiss is our shared dish.

It begins with a small solo voice

early in the morning

with sleep on our lips.

It rises to become a melody

at breakfast time

with marmalade.

By soup at twelve

it is a symphony

with crashing crescendo

leaving us bewildered,

needing afternoon tea

and cake.

When we meet for supper

our kiss puts on slippers

and plays a soothing serenade.

At 23:23 we surrender

to its Nocturne Adagio

and feed our kiss with love.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

11 thoughts on “Kiss”

      1. Yes indeed it is. My name is saurabh – i use “8” instead of “B” in my name. 🙂

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