The Last Kiss

The last time we kissed was an afternoon, 3 hours before I left. We were cuddling on the bed like we always do, but this time with such unspoken heaviness and density. I didn’t want to talk about leaving, neither did you. Instead we just stared into each others’ eyes as if it was any other day and talked about everything. Your lashes are very pretty and I am quite jealous of them. I remember kissing your eyes, and then slowly kissing down to your lips. Oh those lips! It started out sweet and slow until you began to kiss with increasing urgency and your hands were all over me. I loved it when you suddenly pushed your tongue into my mouth and kissed me so hard I felt drunk and giddy. And I could still remember your soft, warm lips and your thrashing tongue. You wanted to eat me, and I was all too happy to be eaten. I guess there wasn’t really anything special about the way we kissed; we always kiss like that. But I think that what made it memorable was how much I had wanted to cry but couldn’t because I didn’t want to ruin such a perfect moment. It is a weird feeling – to hold back tears while kissing, but at the same time, it’s also one of the most beautiful, tenderest moments of my life.