Monday, August 24, 2009

The Archipelago of Kisses

Wow..this is new for me. New in terms of this is the first time I'm reading this writing and new in a way that the writing is so unique. I've never read anything like this before. I love kiss and I love to be kissed. But the most important thing is not the kiss itself but the person who gives me the kiss. I love it sooooo much when my boyfriend gives me a kiss. It always feel so special, it's like everything else does not matter, the kiss is the only thing that matters. As for me, for sure I love showering my boyfriend with small but special kisses and also tons of kisses. And this writing is so true, it feels good when someone can actually came up with this thing and able to give us new insight about common thing. Read the writing below and tell me what do you think...


The Archipelago of Kisses
(by Jeffrey McDaniel)

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't grow on trees, like in the old days. So where does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy,like being unleashed with a credit card in a department store of kisses.
There's the first kiss.The sloppy kiss. The peck.The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips tastes so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad sometimes kiss. The I know your tongue like the back of my hand kiss.
As you get older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,with its purple thumb out. If you were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's red door just to see how it fits.
Oh where does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.Now what? Don't invite the kiss over and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious and stare at your toes.
Don't water the kiss with whiskey.It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of your body without saying good-bye,and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left on the inside of your mouth.
You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from especial beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.But one kiss levitates above all the others. The intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss.Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
(source from poemhunter.com - image from amolife.com)

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