On the Verge of a Kiss

Being on the verge of a kiss
Is the no-man’s land
That lies between
Freedom
And Intimacy.
The loneliness of Freedom;
The stuffy air of Intimacy…
The “verge of a kiss”
Bridges both territories
With neither the sense of being alone
Nor feeling of suffocation.
The “verge of a kiss”
Is the best of both worlds.
Being on the verge of a kiss
Is so blissful
Precisely because it is so short:
Like the climax of an arduous novel,
Or the moment just after you jump,
Before hitting the cold depths of an ocean.
With willful shortsightedness,
I envision the Moment –
The brushing of hands;
The eyes that meet, then avert;
The silence pregnant
With expectations
And uncertainty.
Does he or doesn’t he?
Will she or won’t she?
Betwixt and between.
Neither/nor.
Not this nor that.
But like the law of gravity,
Or the tension in a piece of music,
What goes unresolved must resolve,
And what is short must end.
For “being on the verge of a kiss”
Will usually end in a kiss.
And if it doesn’t,
It will most likely end in disappointment.
What goes up must come down,
And as it does,
We find our place again
In Intimacy,
Or Freedom.