Teach Me

How to Teach your Loved One How to Kiss

standing in each others arms

beneath the trees whose boughs were breaking

under the weight of the first snow

you asked me if I could teach you how to kiss.

Well, 

first you have to learn how to breathe out

through the nose, slow and steady

then inhale through the lips to borrow

frosted air from my lungs

sweeter than any air you've ever tasted.

Take as much as you need

{because I'll be stealing from you

all I can get}. 

Then, 

learn to feel your own lips

know their creases, and their dips

press their wrinkles with your tongue

and wet them with your spit.

Chew on the tender, ripe pink skin

and learn them.

Know them, and know what they desire

feel their itch, feel their sting

feel their burning and their yearning

and fall, face first

into the soothing balm of

flesh on flesh. 

Then open,

open wide as you can

and swallow the desperation

take it into yourself and push back with

reassurance

hot, warm and writhing comfort

and I'll do the same for you

pushing our feelings into each other

with such a passion in our bodies

that we can rip each other apart

with a whisper.

To see with our mouths,

to taste with our teeth

to explore with our tongues

the most excruciating vulnerability

that we have.

Lick the wounds

let them prick from the salt

and feel the hurt as it heals

sew the scars with every peck and pucker

and breathe.

If you could kiss me like that,

my dear,

I would kiss you

for real

this time.