That is a kiss

When tongues go gum-searched
like thongs arse-crack bound,
and teeth are delineated,
mapping the boundaries
to bite and chew.
When the eel-slithered other is
sucked and held
in laughing wild-eyed breathlessness
and faces are red from the rubbing.
When you pause for air
and a name bubbles up from your heart
and you know it is ageless and right,
and you leap enjoined like fourteen,
digging with lips
to reveal the already uncovered
mysteries of you both,
and there is an inevitable again
coming down playful and hard
then you know that that,
that is a kiss.

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