Beautifully rose painted lips press together to form that familiar symbol of love. As soft as the pedals they resemble, they seem to cry out and beg for companionship. As love itself is born from its own and gently makes request, to partake can only lead to the inevitable longing for more. No man could ever possess the strength to resist. A Kiss knows this, and as part-angel & part-devil, cannot help but captivate the lustful nature of a lucky fool. Hugged between flowery moments of bliss, such bright smiles could only hope to be outdone by the shine of the warm summer sun.
But you my dear, are the Queen; a royalty, a divinity, to which all other kisses bow down, and yet aspire to be. You are as brilliant and eligant as the tongue after which you are named, yet you are wherever love may be. Sweeter than sugarcoated honey, smooth and often softer than silk, you perpetually leave behind a hint of the essence of your lovelust that instantly conjures the unquenchable desire for your immediate return.
Some say you have magic about you. I say it is magic how you defy the constraints of time. You cause it to fly. You could make an eternity of an instant, and pass in a heartbeat. And it is by that very token that you are the soul of mystery. How obvious it is that you come from the heavens. You so nonchalantly disregard all the rules to which all else is made slave. Your illustrious nature outshines earthly things, as the moon outshines the stars.
Impossible to master, except by those lucky two, who possess hearts so overwhelmed by the thought of each other's presence that they lose themselves, but not one another, in the naturally flawless motions of such pristine moments. They might always seem to be over a little too quickly, except for those which, by nature, surely could only grace a pair of true lovers—they last forever—and the end is nothing, only the possibility of beginning.
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