Fire: My poem entitled "The Kiss"
The Kiss He did not arrive last Friday. I waited. We last saw each other in April. Now it's September. He has to come today. I am waiting. I hate anticipation; I have to be somewhere. This store is a place to wait; It is full of books. I browsed some classics. I read some in the book of quotes. I lifted coffetable books. I skimmed illustrated encyclopedia. Still, there is no sign of him yet. I stepped farther into the store. I said, I hate anticipation. I have to think of something at the moment. I lifted a book of short stories, and was absorbed tracing this line: Do you know the real source of strength? The kiss, the kiss alone!... The kiss is only a preface, however.. .* What a pleasant read, I admit. And I smiled a bit. Almost forgetting anticipation, I lifted my head just in time for his kiss. He came. And he kissed me. He kissed me with suddenness, He kissed me with i...