in the rain. His kiss was a stain –
the stain of adultery.
But I let it hale. And so, grew the tale
of lover’s woe. I’d love to

kiss him in the snow. When the flakes
were thicker than us and all this
broken trust. We’d traipse through heavy slush
using as sleds our tongues. I’d love to

kiss in the sun, when the heat of the day
was young. We would bake our bodies
as bread and got drunk on love till we both
grinned from our foolish sin. I’d love to

kiss him in the wind, when my hair
was pinned against his cheeks and caught
between my teeth. We held each other tighter
when we knew our love was fleeting. I’d love

to kiss him every season.