Member Poem

Adver(b)sity
A poem about a kiss

“Adverbs are the tool of the lazy writer.” — Mark Twain

You lean in slowly
slowly and drunkenly
drunkenly and unsurely
unsurely and eagerly

She catches your lips eagerly
eagerly and sloppily
sloppily and gracelessly
gracelessly and painfully

Teeth knock together painfully.
You laugh together breathlessly.

Rain patters the window softly.
She looks away awkwardly.

Boldly, your fingers cup her chin.
Gently, you turn her face back to yours.
Shyly, she bites her lip.
Quietly, you say her name.

Her lips part temptingly.
You lean in again
to kiss her firmly,
intentionally.

Her hands find your hair instinctively.
Your breath catches sharply.
Her pulse beats against your thumb steadily,
grounding you reassuringly in the present.

She tastes like salt and lime.
What started innocently enough
has rapidly become fervently,
blissfully, incautiously, fatally
more.

Tenderly, your thumb strokes her cheek.
She opens her mouth yieldingly,
greedily sucking on your tongue,
inelegantly deepening the kiss you initiated.

For a moment, she kisses you urgently,
then pulls away abruptly, panting.
You are keenly aware of what this means,
and are ready to wait, patiently,
for as long as she needs.

Solemnly, you press your forehead to hers.
A sword of lightning cleaves the sky.
Your heart beats thunderously,
drowning out the sky’s objections
as she kisses you
again.