The thief of kisses

I should have given you a kiss

I should have called out your name

I should have grabbed your wrist and kissed you,

where your skin would beat and your blood would be warm.

I should have stood on tiptoe because you are the height of the skies and I the skyscrapers.

I should have held your bones as if they were gold made of porcelain and stole your breath while I said goodbye and disarmed myself on the nerves of my daring.

I should have ambushed you, between leaving and staying, I should have said your name as my last breath. 

With the fact that between your last vowel and the kiss there was no time, that only the drowning of your eyes and my lips constantly wishing for more, remained.

Ta.