WAYWARD KISS

WAYWARD KISS

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

When I reach back into a memory

upon its vivid and splendid casting stage

red is the lace edging of the dress

embroidered by a silk ribbon from the hair

and the debutant affair went on.

Hot mustard on the lips

she was daring and alluring like a tigress

wrapping her legs around me

and making me her captive oyster.

Do Men become Sirens?

Had vinegar quenched Christ on the Cross?

When I drink a wretched hot cup of coffee

with grinds passed through ten times

I yearn to leave for the tropics

in search of a vestal virgin unsung and unused.

I would never sign on the dotted line

or give away her virtues to a sinner like me.

I’d pray upon the Light

so placed upon the frame of a face so pure.

Do women become lizards of the sand?

Have their teeth

sunk into their victim with a killing strike?

Into the memory of yesteryears curtain

my heart beats for a time of vigorous art and love:

purple on the eyelids glittering so.

Decadence has no place

for the decency of a life given by chance

Oh wayward kiss …

The distinction of your Soul is clear …