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A Kiss on The Cheek

Poetry By: maximilliano
Memoir



There once lived a woman who drove my senses wild. As the French, in all their wisdom do, she kissed on each cheek whenever she met someone she'd met before.
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Submitted:Jan 15, 2009    Reads: 238    Comments: 7    Likes: 4   


A kiss on the cheek?


A kiss on the cheek? I think not.
The way you affect me, a miss is on the cards.
The nearness of your eyes to cheek might draw me to kiss one of those orbs.
To sip of that bright shine that glows, so much, when they look my way.
A kiss on the cheek? I think not.


A kiss on the cheek? I think not.
The closeness of your ears to either of those planes; should I hold your head, ever so gently between my hands; purely to control the movement of my mouth towards your cheek. A contact between my lips and one of those shells is a distinct possibility. My mouth might even conspire with tongue and teeth to allow a slight moistening and nipping to happen.
A kiss on the cheek? I think not.


A kiss on the cheek? I think not.
From plane of cheek to gracious neck is much too short a distance to ever resist the temptation to gently stoke with lips and such and to nuzzle softly for a while and smile.
A kiss on the cheek? I think not.


A kiss on the cheek? I think not.
Even were I to hold you in my arms; solely to steady my aim, and also be distracted by your other charms: of beautiful form, of intriguing scent, of velvet touch and silken shape, the attraction of your smiling rosebud mouth, would draw me to take a draught of that wondrous nectar there.
A kiss on the cheek? I think not.





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