THE KISS (Poetry Monthly)

Auguste Rodin 1889

Gentle hand lies tenderly on rounded thigh

Taut breasts on manly torso pressed,

Naked skin to naked skin in sweet embrace

Now satin soft; soon to be marble hard.

Mouth toward mouth; eye to eye;

That new lovers’ longing look.

Insistent hand guides head down to her face –

First kiss –  and yet

They know what is to come.

As passion rises high

But still he holds the fateful book

Telling the tale of forbidden love

With another’s wife,

And a stone cold marital bed.

Their trembling lips have still not met

When suddenly, held high

He sees his brother’s knife

And white marble turns blood red.