Driven or silenced,
Pressed deep against my lips,
The world stands hushed
To witness each kiss...
No poet to have ever compared
Such intimacy or thrill
To fine wine or plush velvet
Dared to define it with more skill.
For it is far more sensual,
Not as common as touch or taste...
Its very existence and substance
Is beyond tangible, beyond grace.
It holds me captive,
Yet it sets me free...
Enraptured beyond words,
When we kiss, the world ceases to be...
