Everything that is said

Is not always said with the tip,

The most sensitive part of the tongue.

Fingertips skim the surface of my skin,

The stubble on your chin

Brushing my shoulder, rugged yet gentle.

Wakes my senses with a shiver.

I want to be closer and still closer.

In the middle of this balancing act of emotions

We regress to that childlike innocence

When French kissing.