I did not know that the last time you kissed me would be the last kiss. Bitter, biting tears claw their way down my face as I strain to recall every detail. Perhaps if I had known it was our last, I would have guarded these fleeting images more carefully. Every kiss we’ve shared is carved into my heart’s memory. I dared not allow myself to think they would ever, ever end. Unable to bear the pain of this possibility, I did not want to look into the face of a future without your kisses.
I enjoyed the pleasure of basking in the glow of every movement, every pressing of your lips to mine. I know the curves of your mouth, I know its softness too. We forged ourselves together, into each other, arms wrapped around each other, linking hand with heart. Life is so good in those moments, those aching, needing, wanting, can’t live without you moments. My joy was complete, and I was blissfully lost in a place where time stands still. I never wanted it to end.
What is at the end of a kiss? What comes after the last kiss? My heart aches, and I am hollow. I am shriveling up, and the next wind to come upon me will surely blow me away. I will be no more. I will never be her again.
At this moment, it is as safe to stand on the edge of sanity as any other place in my life. And the edge of sanity is the only place where a last kiss can occur. Lingering on this edge, I close my eyes, and try desperately to remember the last kiss. How long did it last? Were you holding me tightly? Were you kissing me . . . or were you kissing me for the last time? I believed nothing if I did not believe that our last kiss was a prelude to our next.
The last kiss.
The last kiss.
You have brought me immeasurable pain. But I am in love with your kisses.
© 2012 Bella Nina
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