Sunday, August 07, 2011


I’m trying to remember my first kiss, but it eludes me, the memory. How sad that such a fundamental experience has disappeared - no doubt due to excess alcohol consumption. I wonder how many kisses I don’t remember because I was too drunk or they were too insignificant.
I do remember the boy I used to kiss during break times when I was 15. And there was the kiss which ended a friendship. The kiss that happened just because the guy was so tall (and I was so drunk). The kisses with my big love, who proclaimed that our lips were a perfect fit. I remember the pain of our last ever kiss. But I don't remember the kisses.

So many kisses and so little meaning.

In my mind I still see the surprise on your face as we kissed that first time. There have been other kisses between our first, and our last. But my lips, they remember every kiss. I wish ours had at least some little bit of significance.

I don’t want to be kissed again, now or forever. I want to remember at least this kiss. And I want the last imprint on my lips, the DNA, the saliva mixed with mine, to be from your kiss.

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