The press of lips reveals it all—
The touch o’er shadows merely words,
Prolonged, unsure, secure, polite?
A kiss can oft-time s speak in verse,
No form, no rhyme, soft tactual beats.
Non-painted lips do say it best—
They speak full bore and spill the beans.
To forehead kiss the newborn babe, says…
Be safe, I love, will I be there when–?
Kisses touched to elder kin, say…
I’m here! It’s me. And just how long?
Kisses to young children pray…,
Will we be close? Shall I now fret?
First date kisses do inquire…
Shall I try tears and joy, again?
Wedding kisses always say…
Let us both hope, the two of us.
Married folk, at times will ask…
Are you still you? Is that you, my love?
-p. (Leonard N. Shapiro N.Y., 2016)
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