Last Kiss...

It had just started to rain when he stopped his car outside her house. She hesitated to get out of the car as she didn't want to get wet. He watched her hair as she watched the drops of rain fall down the window. Their evening coffee date was over and she was trying to leave him.. again..

He hadn't seen her since they broke up. Three weeks and two days had passed.. But to him, they were "twenty three" days of different life.. She turned back at him and smiled.. They both smiled.

"Thanks for the coffee dear!" She said. Her eyes studied his face. Reading every emotion he tried to hide. He didn't want to say.. But he did..

"I still love you!"

Her eyes fell. She played with a button on her jacket. He watched her fingers; afraid to see the look on her face.

"I know you do!" She said "things are just.. better this way.."

He nodded.. Still watching her hand. She stopped playing with the button and put her fingers under his chin to raise his head. His heartbeat stopped when their eyes met. Her face was close to his. He was not sure who moved first.. But he didn't close his eyes until their lips came together.

The sound of rain faded and only thing he knew was the feeling of her lips against his. The same lips he had kissed a thousand times before, but this was something special. But it was over.

She opened the door and stepped into rain without a word.

It was their last kiss.

Kiss... A different one..

"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."

It was one of those usual walks in the park after work. It used to be nice to go to the park before dinner after a long day of work. Just walk and talk.

They used to be in this awful (yet awesome!) habit of debating just about anything. They had the interesting habit of dissecting ever issue with reason and logic—starting from the bigger world, bringing it down to individual level and then applying it to our own lives—was our favorite pastime. That night, the topic was romance.

"What the hell is a whisper-kiss, anyway?" She finally asked.

“Oh come on, you can’t be asking me this, you are supposed to be the romantic one here,” he replied.

She really don’t know what a whisper kiss is and it doesn’t sound very intriguing.

"I like the passionate kisses," he laughed out loud.

She joined in, "Yeah... THAT I know…"

They both laughed as the memories came back.

"No seriously... I really don’t know..." she insisted again.

He looked at her for a moment before slowly rising up from the park bench where they sat. He positioned himself so as to eclipse the sun on her back, and leaned his head and hovered it an inch from her neck, hanging above her shoulder blades.

Then, carefully, and ever so smoothly he pushed his cheek muscles forward so that they in turn pursed his lips. Gracefully, and ever so softly he grazed her neck, with his pursed lips and planted with great precision the tinniest quiver of a kiss, like the lightest spore wisp of a dandelion that ever did grace a lover's collar.
Her cheeks released his lips which fell back to a smirk.

"A whisper-kiss, my dear, is a kiss so softly planted, so perfectly executed, that it can scarcely be called a kiss at all. A kiss so quaint the senses confuse touch with sound,” he said quietly. "And thus the phrase ‘All prayers are whisper-kisses to the sun'."

So.. Now on... I don’t think of kisses the same way anymore.

-omi