First Kiss
Despite the cold and deadly winter
we stand beneath an old umbrella
outside the closed jeweler's shop
in a deserted ugly winding street.
I take off my gloves and hold your hand,
so cold, so loveless, so helpless.
Rub your elegant fingers,
blow so softly my hot breath
upon their frigid purple tips,
that they might catch the warmth
that I feel in my heart for you.
As sleet and rain devour the earth,
I look into your face
notice your quicksilver smile,
the twinkle in your greenish eye,
the misty flare from chiseled nostrils.
Slowly we retreat into the shop's recess
hug each other in tender bliss,
your cold slightly parted lips
meet mine in a lingering kiss,
we feel love's warmth
enfolding our souls and holding fast
we know we will not tempt fate
that up to now
had kept us cruelly apart.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2020
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