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.