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Day One - Kissing


I have spent today thinking about kisses. Once upon a time I kissed with reckless abandon, party pashes with friends and strangers alike, flirtatious snogs with crushes, deep passionate melding of mouths with lovers. But these days I kiss cheeks, and sometimes, with particularly close friends, I press my lips briefly to theirs in greeting and farewell. The intimacy of chosen family. It's a lovely intimacy, but I miss the deeper connection of deeper kisses. It's an intimacy I took for granted, and now in its absence, I yearn. I miss that hesitant first kiss moment of loaded tension, as you both lean in and gently brush lips. I miss the mingling of breath, the first electric touch of tongues, exploring and learning and feeling your way into the rhythm of lust. I miss the playful teasing, catching a lip between teeth, flicking my tongue at the crest of their open mouth and retreating when theirs moves forward to meet me. I miss the practiced and familiar kisses of a lover who knows the tilt of my head and the exact pressure of lips that will make me quietly moan into their mouth. I miss the hard panting wetness of passion, catching kisses in the midst of bodies moving over under around together.


Once upon a time I didn't think of kissing as particularly intimate, but as with most precious commodities, its value has risen in contrast to its availability. And for me, as one who hungers mostly for the things that are not readily available, and even more for the things that are withheld, as some kind of masochistic self-validation of my sense of unworthiness, those lingering lockings of lips tongue and teeth have become imbued with an intimacy I ache for. Today at least.  



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