The last kiss

Published 9:29 am Wednesday, September 26, 2012

He had never actually attempted it. The publicity surrounding the act seemed to force it into a domain of unprecedented allure.

Depicted in movies, embodied in songs, it seemed that eternal rite into manhood, the grand step into unknown land, beckoning participants.

It was “the kiss.”

He just wanted to try it one time. Just one time, that was all, and he would be satisfied. But the act was full of potential pitfalls that scared him to no end.

What does one do with their nose? Which way do you turn your head? Should you moisten your lips first? Do you close your eyes? If so, what if you miss your target? How do you know if she is even receptive? And what does one say afterward?

Furthermore, they were not just any lips. They were “her” lips. His were normal, often chapped, of average shape and size.

Hers were those of a goddess. They seemed untouchable.

He had studied them. Their shapely curvature seemed the perfect complement to eyes that overpowered the stars.

They moved in flawless symmetry when she talked and framed a row of pearls when she smiled.

It seemed they dared any mortal to come near.

And yet, he would attempt to touch his lips to hers. How could he possibly do that? How could he? But he had to. He must.

He made his plan. Pick her up, something to eat, a movie, take her home, front porch, under the light.

All went according to schedule.

Here he was, on the porch, looking down at her. “Her.” She stopped talking and looked up at him.

This was it. His chance to do this one time.

He took a breath and held it, perceived his target, leaned over at the waist, turned his head slightly to the left, closed his eyes and gently touched his lips to hers.

They were soft, warm, inviting. And electric.

Walking back to his car, a tingle went down through his body. He’d done it. He had touched his lips to hers.

And she had allowed it. It was more than he had imagined. It was unearthly, mystical, sacred. He relished the moment.

Driving home alone, he brushed his fingers across his lips and thought, “Maybe — just maybe — I will try it one more time.”

REX ALPHIN of Walters is a farmer, businessman, author, county supervisor and contributing columnist for The Tidewater News. His email address is rexalphin@aol.com.