Let me delve in your planet 'mouth' in search for a revelation
where we bounce between art & lust.
Your vigor heat my lips and race an endless marathon to create a mantra
That we can both recite one day.
You call me a "KissSmith" while you welder well my appetite;
where our mouth-to-mouth water a thirsty urge
and all fierceness of our massive bodies weigh-less.
I lose count of all stimulus when our flesh collide;
and all what remain is the sound of discrete moans
that escalate a fearless crescendo,
steer a laugh when we entr'acte,
take a blink to look at moist eyes
glancing at one's face to draw a smile
then engage back to the kissing dialogue.
We reach no climax, neither a peak
even when your tongue climb mine
even when my tongue twirl around yours
even when we spit and exchange fluids.
We grow breathless but we don't stop
we pause, we rewind, we shuffle
to replay a song we once practiced
that sounds as new everytime
we pause, we rewind, we shuffle.
We don't trace, nor recall as we tend to forget
to make a new memory of each kiss
that we pause, we rewind to renew and shuffle....
