Three Kisses

1.

I climbed silently onto the bed while you were drowsing and stealthily crouched over you until my mouth was a hair’s breadth away from yours. I looked down for a long time at your closed eyes, dreams shifting them beneath your lids. I brought my hands up, resting them softly on either side of your throat. My thumbs almost met under your chin, and I kissed you –  at first so lightly that you didn’t stir. Then I wormed my way between your lips with the tip of my tongue and began to devour them.

2.

I stood behind your chair in the light of a summer’s day and watched you read until I couldn’t wait another moment. I reached over the back of the chair and, cupping your chin in one hand, tilted your head back until I could gaze at your face from a new angle. Then I lowered my mouth onto yours and kissed you with new lips, fascinated by the strange orientation. I could feel your breath on my canted neck and feel your blood pulsing beneath the skin of your throat. I ate your lips like a fruit, not wanting to spill a single drop of juice. I licked my own saliva off your wet mouth.

3.

I kissed you on a cold, dark street, beside the crumbling brickwork of an old abandoned warehouse. The wind whipped rubbish around our legs and made our coats flap and rustle like crow’s wings. I opened your coat and burrowed inside it until the warmth of you enveloped me, kissing you so hard I could taste blood on my lips. I didn’t know whose it was. I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel the sting and bruise of that hunger, the sharpness of your teeth against my swollen lips. To be taken by the cold and the heat all at once.