While one mouth reaches up the other dips
And all the space between is certain bliss,
The sense that lips have of approaching lips.
The eyes are certain of the mouth’s approach;
The movement’s slow, it moves at measured pace.
The lips part slowly, wary to encroach
On what lies hidden in the trembling space.
Unwary eyes, to like eyes, now reveal –
Which once with other lovers hid too much –
The time is right for trembling lips to feel
The disappearing space as lovers touch.
When all the space between is certain bliss,
Who’s certain when a kiss becomes a kiss?