You askif I will write a poemI could,I supposewrite the mostsplendiferousone of allbut notrightnownot whenyour handsare brewingwarmcinnamon teaacross my skinnot when I’mtrying to imaginewhat might happenif you beganfloweringkissesuponmeMy dear,how canI writea poemwhen I’m alreadyinside one?

kisses explode when... someone believes in me when my heart cries out a song of thanks to yours.

kisses... areand always will be the only language that I will have ever truly known.

kisses happenwhen my morning blueberry muffin sails slowly upon my savoring tongue.