Kissed

I think we all love kisses, like flowers love the sun. They can be meaningful, deep and scandalous or fun. You might briefly, sneakily, steal a kiss, you can blow a kiss or condone a kiss, emblazon every girl or boy you know with a kiss, postpone a kiss, or bemoan a kiss as hormones, but you can’t keep a kiss or own a kiss, because they’re never more than half your own kiss - sadly, as we’ve all learned, you just can’t kiss alone. Every kiss is a puzzle, an experiment requiring a team you may not even understand a kiss, or exactly what it means. As far as kisses go, I’ve only had a few. I blame that dam pandemic, they certainly weren’t something I eschewed. I wish I had specific tips for girls with quick, impulsive lips which somehow never can resist a flirty, kissing apocalypse. Your roommates will support you, with only a few quips but you really can’t keep doing this, you’ve got to get a grip.