The last kiss lay in the road <br /> dusty and memory-filled <br /> and I on my endless trek <br /> paused more out of respect <br /> and morbid passion-regret <br /> asked my self <br /> shall I retrieve it, <br /> a curiosity, <br /> inspect it <br /> as lost artifice <br /> <br />or continue to tread my road <br /> to endless, endings <br /> even I know <br /> lead no where? <br /> <br /> How many last kisses <br /> I ask <br /> inhabit my roads <br /> even I know <br /> they cannot be endless <br /> yet <br /> how many <br /> puckerings can I present <br /> to new suitors <br /> all intent <br /> with new intents <br /> and failing finishes? <br /> <br />A new kiss <br /> with someone new <br /> requires I think <br /> first taking that dusty kiss <br /> from the past renewed <br /> and giving it first <br /> another hopeless chance <br /> and then infusing it with new <br /> faith fulled energy <br /> that says <br /> we are are all <br /> renewed in the offering; <br /> transformed <br /> and cleansed <br /> in the sacrament <br /> that is the formerly dusty <br /> transformed kiss; <br /> <br />and we thereby again place ourselves <br /> again in that category: <br /> The <br /> Hopelessly <br /> Romantic Romantic. <br /> <br />So be it.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-kiss-in-the-dusty-road/
