On the Verge of a Kiss

Being on the verge of a kiss
Is the no-man’s land
That lies between
And Intimacy.
The loneliness of Freedom;
The stuffy air of Intimacy…
The “verge of a kiss”
Bridges both territories
With neither the sense of being alone
Nor feeling of suffocation.
The “verge of a kiss”
Is the best of both worlds.
Being on the verge of a kiss
Is so blissful
Precisely because it is so short:
Like the climax of an arduous novel,
Or the moment just after you jump,
Before hitting the cold depths of an ocean.
With willful shortsightedness,
I envision the Moment –
The brushing of hands;
The eyes that meet, then avert;
The silence pregnant
With expectations
And uncertainty.
Does he or doesn’t he?
Will she or won’t she?
Betwixt and between.
Not this nor that.
But like the law of gravity,
Or the tension in a piece of music,
What goes unresolved must resolve,
And what is short must end.
For “being on the verge of a kiss”
Will usually end in a kiss.
And if it doesn’t,
It will most likely end in disappointment.
What goes up must come down,
And as it does,
We find our place again
In Intimacy,
Or Freedom.