Kiss the Girl
Kiss the girl when she sits close on the bar stool,
bracketing your legs in hers,
hand left haphazardly on your thigh,
fingers slowly grasping tighter,
although she doesn't realize it.
Kiss the girl when she leans in close,
breathing in the scent that dances on your neck,
draping herself behind your tresses,
whispering secrets that don't exist,
because you both know what is wanted.
Kiss the girl when her eyes say more than her words,
desire playing like a movie in the reflection of her pupils,
dilated and focused on your lips,
and forgetting the room that surrounds them;
the others that she no longer cares about.
Kiss the girl now.
Kiss her softly,
lips pressed lightly against each other,
pausing only to feel their softness,
and to breathe in the sweetness of desire.
Kiss her fully,
fitting puzzle pieces together,
over and over, tongues tasting,
probing, inducing that...
No heat of liquor will match this.
Kiss her passionately,
igniting sparks on her tongue,