Wild Rhubarb
A kiss studied
is so much more beautiful
than a kiss performed.
It gives nothing away.
When I kiss my wife,
I should remember it.
It never was meant to be
a handshake. And why do
we kiss to say goodbye?
These goodbyes lasting,
stretching, crowding the horizon.
A sound is burned but a kiss is alive.
Alive like a moose scarfing wild rhubarb.
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