A Kiss...the Familiar

Collapse.

Compress.

Let the distance between us descend from feet to inches...let the distance collapse.  Let the eyes guide us in that perfect frame to know exactly where we intend to be.  Let our centrifugal forces align us perfectly as we gently collapse against each other...the weight of the day, the stress of the moments, the heft of being apart tear through the walls and let us collapse into each other equally...finding the perfect angle that we are so familiar with.

Compressing our first very pliable lips into each other like a collision.

Let us collide softly, like two boats that gently feel a tide that drifts them together, the softest brush against each other.  Let us quietly collapse.  Quietly collide.

Comfort.  Let us revert back in time, when the first kisses were curious, seeking.  Complicating and maybe confusing.  Let us know pull forward, when the kiss is comfort...coming to a place so often sought.  Always sought, perhaps never always around...but perfectly familiar when connected.

Let me connect...no.
Let me reconnect with you in a kiss.  A collapse...a compress.  A collision.

Let us join first at our lips and let that kiss linger, our breath still...let the rest of our bodies collapse behind that joining, compress into each other...no longer the two boats gently colliding but rather the way ice melts in bourbon, mixing, intermingling, disintegrating into a combination.

Let the kiss be the introduction into a coming home...a familiar.  A comfort, a collapse.  A giving in, a succumbing to the whatever lies ahead.

Let the collapse compress us together...colliding.  Let it comfort, let it cascade against us, combining. Colluding.  Comparing.

But let us not forget really what it means...despite that familiar comfort...that compression.  What it really means...in that collision.

The craving.

The craving.

Even now,  the distance ascending in not feet or inches but miles and thousands of them...

The craving.