Thank God I didn’t kiss you
Two lips like tulips spread open
With sulfur and brimstone the fragrance of your breath
Sweetened honey flypaper used to attract the weak
And have now captured the young.
Your man’s grievance is pathetic
And I’m amused by his bravado
But I use words as bombs and missiles
The Department of Homeland Security has my mouth under surveillance
As an example of a weapon of mass destruction.
I wish I had your golden lasso of truth
I would wrap your bloated, repressed emotions with it like a noose
Hang them above the superficial and shallow like a piñata
Hand them 2x4s and watch as they show you
How they really feel about you.
Spitting venom like a cobra
You called me emotionally unstable
And proceeded to interrupt my daily prayers
With your contrived notion
that I was groomed to be your groom.
First kiss was to be on the altar
Living sacrifice shackled by a ball and chain
Your preacher pronounces me your pet acolyte
I may now hand over my will and soul
My dreams were to be used as collateral in a prenuptial agreement.
And your menstrual minstrels were to sing
Of your newly acquired M.R.S. degree
I was to become Mr. Wonder Woman
I could be spankin married to you right now
Thank God I didn’t kiss you.
I want to kiss my future so deeply
That my past gets jealous
And Eternity hunts me with a shotgun
Full of buckshot and rock salt.
I want to kiss my dreams so passionately,
I get so lost in the moment,
The real world has to put my photograph on a milk carton with the caption:
“Have you seen this person?”
I want to kiss,
I want to kiss.
Any woman on Earth
[photo by ann-dabney]