6.12.2021 – became poetry

became poetry
highest communication
untranslatable

Adapted from an essay with these lines.

Do you remember the best kiss of your life?

I imagine that you do.

It’s an evocative question?

The essay ends with this line.

Kissing at its best becomes a fluency, a poetry; the highest form of communication, a physical language.

The best kiss of my life?

I don’t even want to share it.

It was a conversation, almost.

And, in this instance, untranslatable.

Almost poetry on its own.

An Ode to the End of Covid maybe.

(the essay is I don’t know whose idea it was to smoosh our faces together, but I could kiss them by Hannah Jane Parkinson, under the heading, The Joy of Small Things.)

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