Jane St. James (selain) wrote,
Jane St. James

We Don't Kiss

Angel and I don't kiss. We don't touch. We don't usually touch. So any other way we can kiss, I'll take it with joy.

We shared our first kiss in May. Flowers had just been planted at the cafe, and the snow had nearly all melted. We still wore our full armour against the cold. And someone had left two little stuffed doggies in the branches of a city tree. We made them kiss and looked at each other with stars in our eyes. I felt really close to him in that moment.

We kissed last week, when I felt at an all-time low for no reason (most likely a post moon-sickness). The wind picked up and our empty coffee cups flew onto the ground and rolled to each other. The lips touched, and Angel said, "Look, they're kissing!" My mood lifted a little bit, and I smiled for the first time that day.

Our usual way of kissing is in the form of a pre-agreed touch, not often, but enough for both of us to show physical affection: elbow bumps. Like fist bumps, but we just elbow each other, knocking funny-bones. I've learned it's not always his desire to do it on every encounter, so I let him offer first.

Tonight, we had what is probably the closest we've come to real kissing. He rolls his own cigarettes, and I asked if he'd roll me one. Instead of rolling one for me, he took the one from his lips and passed it to me. He never does that! Never. He looked as I put it between my lips, and it seemed like he really meant it. I'd say that was the highlight of my night.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened