When does a kiss begin?

 

Does it begin with the warmth of a jumbled-crunched blanket

Between two smiling, lightly touching bodies

Caressed with good morning eyes and slowly waking limbs knowing

that they are in the right place?

Or does it begin at a greeting door, with a question,

A brief touch, hope and curiosity? Or soon after at a meal eaten table, lights dancing off empty wine glasses, with softening lips and firming optimism, when hope becomes raucous laughter and a knowing comfort that each lip, plate and glass is in the right place?

Or is it before that? Is it every step before? The understanding that the fifty-eight facets of a brilliant cut diamond, side by side, dance differently with each jeweler’s craft. Reflections that understand each is perfect and in the right place?

Whenever it is, I am glad that kisses begin.