The Kiss

I want to kiss
the one I love again,
while on a small walk,
in the rain,
in a shady graveyard
in high summer,
under a shared umbrella's cover,
on a bench,
treading the spongy wet grass,
and taking grainy photographs.

Finding the paths
to each other,
under a shared umbrella's cover,
sprinkled with dancing silver tips of rain,
from above,
I kiss the ever-lasting lips
of the memory of the one that I love.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.