A-Z Kisses

Forehead kisses: you plant them like seeds, spreading warmth like roots reaching through each little crevice of my body.

Eyelid kisses: you wish me goodnight in the softest way possible. My eyes hold traces of your lips so that when I wake up I’ll have a bit of you with me. I swear there’s nothing more comforting than opening my eyes and seeing your face looking back at me. 

Nose kisses: I could drown in the lingering smell of wind and aftershave on your skin.

Cheek kisses: I thought they were overrated until you came along. I sunk into your chest and drifted off to sea with the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Your lips were so gentle, I thought it was the ocean spray dancing across my face. Laying in your arms was like floating in high tide without worrying about the water burning my lungs. 

Mouth kisses: damn you know how to shut me up. You steal the words right out of my mouth and roll them on your tongue before whispering a response through my lips. I hide your words on the roof of my mouth so I can taste them even when you’re gone. 

Neck kisses: they drive me crazy. Your lips leave a roadmap from the edge of my collarbone all the way back to my mouth. You’ve explored every part of me; I’m not scared that you’ll get lost anymore.

Chest kisses: you feel my heart pulsing under your lips. I wonder if you can taste all the beats it skipped since your mouth started planting flowers between my ribs.

Arm kisses: you bandage my scars with your soft, gentile mouth.

Fingertip kisses: I am an artist and I leave traces of you in every piece I make. I can’t help but try to mix a green in my pallet that matches your eyes. I came close once, but still it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the real thing.

Tummy kisses: you send love sprouting through the edges of me that I hate most. I swear you have seeds hidden under your tongue, because I keep finding dandelions in all my cracks.

Ankle kisses: I dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat. Our first slow dance you held me so close I felt safe for the first time in years.

Your kisses: draw constellations across my  skin. I don’t have to look at the sky to find hope anymore, I can sip it from the stars you left on my lips.