I wanted to kiss you

I wanted to kiss you
like the impulse
to walk infront of fast traffic, not wait for the lights
to say I can.

I wanted to kiss you like
licking just melted chocolate from the pan:
knowing it will burn my tongue, leave you unable to taste
anything else
for days, but that first rich sweet
overwhelming hit
makes the loss worthwhile.

I wanted to kiss you like
the sound of a sketch
painstaking hours in the drawing
that never worked
tearing.

I wanted to kiss you like
snowdrops coming out
before the spring,
in the fragile sun that sometimes comes
on frosty mornings.

I wanted to kiss you
but I don't know why.