Kisses, Not Kisses
The flesh is not the flesh when flesh becomes
our talisman for what we think we want
and what we want burns in a truth beyond
our lust. The kiss is not the kiss, the hand
on skin is not the hand on skin, failing
to bring the joy that flames in sweet desire —
that joy of nakedness to nakedness
from thigh to thigh with breath commingling sighs.
Now then we learn the truth that what we yearn
for lies hidden deeper in the heart than
what a surface flash excites — that what we
yearn for, the flesh is too remiss to give.
Kisses, not kisses and love, not the love
desired, it’s not flesh, but our soul on fire.