It Was Only a Kiss

We were both drunk with sorrow. We were just not thinking that's all, just not thinking. It wasn't romantic or beautiful, it was sad. I had nothing left to say, and you had everything to talk about. We spilled out our knowledge of the world around us. It was almost two in the morning when we were done. Just sitting there, not thinking. Our lives intertwined in a matter a few hours. We lived under the same moon for our whole lives, living our whole lives, without knowing each other. Until that night. We're were two strangers, just sitting there, not thinking. I remember how handsome you looked that night, freshly cut beard and a smile that could stop anyone in their tracks. But there was an underlying sadness to your eyes. Something about them that was offbeat, like a ballerina without her Franz Schubert. The kiss was long and awkward. Both us not wanting it to end. To persevere this momentary bliss, never allowing the treachery of the world to taint this pure and selfless act. The kiss between two strangers, just sitting, not thinking. It was a long, sad kiss. It was almost as if we were searching for the truth in each others' lips. We were both exhausted and condemned by society. When all was over, I just laid there, in bed, adsorbing, processing. And you burnt out like a rundown motel's light bulb. This was the first time I ever kissed a man. This was the first time everything fell into place, everything was innocent again. Everything was going to be fine.