I tell you I would rather be kissed
than fucked because
it is the strongest knowing learned
those deep hard years
from cold hours of barren lust
in the dark loneliness of
disconnected sex.
Lying alone and broken on the bed,
in those fever-laced-burning dying days,
in the un-solaced hours of prayer after,
I missed Love’s kiss most of all.
Some women need a lifetime
to learn the price of all they’ve lost,
to learn the love of a mate
whispers its truth in the kiss.
You kiss me like crystal water pours
from a mountain spring.
I kiss you like thirst drinks down
cool well-water.
You taste like water – life – Holiness.
I thirst like death – isolation – Sin.
Marissa Colleen Mullins 
I love the juxtapositions here. Beautifully done. ❤
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I agree Marissa. I barely remember the sex, I do remember the kisses, holding hands and the embrace. A wonderful poem shared.
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Thank you for reading and commenting. Happy to know it resonates and is enjoyed!
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I am a old man now. Those days when we held hands and shared a thousand kisses. Poetry for me now. I was glad to had found your site tonight Marissa.
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Thank you. It is a beautiful joy to know that connection exists in so many ways in our world, and that the experiences of words and emotions can touch others…shared commonality and living. I am grateful for your feedback – and glad you found my site as well. Have a blessed and beautiful night, John.
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You are welcome Marissa and good night, sweet dreams.
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