WAITING FOR AN AUTUMNAL KISS.

You could have been here with me.

As I sit brooding on the shores of time,

looking into the heart of the unknown,

you could have been here with me.

As I lay resurrected first

in the mid-wife's arms,

my mother, still in exhaustion,

kissed me, the kiss of life.

As I lisped first, calling her first,

she kissed me, the kiss of initiation.

As she lay dead, unhappy that

her brood were still fledglings,

I kissed her, my first kiss of loss.

As I did her, my first crush, proud

in the fields, she kissed me in secret;

my first kiss of passion.

As she bade farewell, wedded to another;

I kissed her tears, my kiss of heart-break.

As I held your arms in wed-lock

I kissed you, your eyes closed in submission,

you were me, in a kiss of finding each other.

As we quarreled, parted ways,

I kissed your cold finger tips,

my first kiss of denial.

And now past my spring

wherein you bloomed

in lovely kids and blissful home

I sit on forlorn shores of gloom,

I long for one more kiss.

I know you won't ever come back.

Yet, honey, I want you back.

You could have been here with me

to give me that autumnal kiss,

the kiss of death.

Kiss me to my death, my love.