Mimi - Mona Poetry: Your Kiss

©Your Kiss

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

I protest.

Your lips are much to mobile

as they graze over mine; they’re

too warm and too hungry. My

shoulder rises, not with rejection

to the way your lips lay claim—

possessively, blatantly, tantalizingly—

but in defense of my sensibilities,

which I seem to lose as those twins

press that sensitive place under my

ear and onto nape as they seek a

favorable response, as they cause my

knees fold, making them unable to

hold me erect under your mouth’s

continued incendiary demonstration.

I demur.

It ‘s never been my experience

to lose control of my breath, not

until your mouth would accept

nothing but submission from

mine, until I accepted the promise

of a conflagration so intense

it would promise to consume me,

seize my lungs in a grasp of

desire beyond words, beyond thought,

beyond heaven. And when your tongue

found its sheath in my throat,

my world fell away, the room

ceased to exist, and there was

only us locked together in some

unrelenting drive to assuage a

passion suddenly more powerful

than the two of us.

My hands cavil.

Shocking me, they take purchase

of your cheeks to maintain our

mouths in bondage while I attempt

to rein in my desire; but, instead, I

lose what little clarity I’d retained.

Ensnared by the white heat of lust,

objections to your copious kisses,

which trail paths from shoulder to

bosom, transform to ash. I quell an

unhelpful, appreciative shiver.

Breathing...it’s now a secondary

consideration; what breath I

manage to draw comes from you.

All propriety is lost when your

onslaught continues; any will

to resist your predatory smile

is vanquished as you devote long moments

to showing me — to lay before me

a landscape of what is to come —

I respond, gasping into the kiss.

I let my reins go.

I am yours.

I surrender.