The Kiss

The livid stream pours over her ears
Cascading down her cherub cheeks
A waterfall of black splashing down
Porcelain skin to catch each drop,
Streaming along her nape and shoulders.
In the parting of this dark curtain,
I sit as the attentive audience,
Lost in the twilight mesh
Where weather and water meet.
They dance, ebb and flow
The moon and the tides
All contained in her eyes.
Crimson lips, soft and subtle,
Held breath as she leans in close
An eased tilt and pressed gently,
Each kiss to be saved and stored,
Each on treated as the very first.