Nervously, my innocent lips seek out Chris’ darting tongue in the dark.   1976

Paul’s hands on my face, pressing against me with immediacy, when I walk into his house.  2008

Gingerly holding Heather in my arms, I put my parched lips softly on the top of her newborn head, while a tear of joy escapes. 1984

“Pucker up” my dad says, as he gently tucks my sister and I into bed. We giggle to his silly singing, “make a magic circle and mark it with an X.”  1966

Chivas and cigar smoldering kisses from Rich.  His eyes remain stubbornly open.   I learn too late that his heart remains closed.  2001

Taking control of Mike with my kisses, I convince myself that he turns me on.  1979

Vernon’s lips graze mine, over and over again, becoming stronger, he looks deep into my eyes as we collapse at the moment of truth.  2009

The kiss I could not give; damned by the mask, leukemia, hospital rules and my dear mothers’ abrupt death.   2009