Predicting the Kiss

Tina Kelley

Predicting the Kiss

Will it be dark or light
if dark, there must be wind
if light, there must be green nearby.

If music, andante
if touch, yours smoothing the hair above my ear.
If words, no words

just that sigh and groan like they do
at the end of poetry readings,
air let out.

Eyes open? No,
and briefly yes,
and no.

It will be pulled apart by
my smile
but not entirely.

Will it be inside or out?
If out, dark and bracing
if in, in the kitchen,

with sun just out from under clouds,
late Sunday afternoon.
Vertical? Horizontal? Yes, then, yes.

Will it last on my mouth
past dinner?
Will it last through ten rings of the phone?

Will it last past two smiles pulling it apart entirely?
Yes, then, yes, then
yes.