The last kiss lay in the road
dusty and memory filled
and I on my endless trek
paused more out of respect
and morbid passion regret
asking self
shall I retrieve it,
a curiosity,
inspect it
as lost artifice

or continue to trek my road
to endless, endings
even I know
lead no where?

How many last kisses
I ask
lay across my roads
even I know
they cannot be endless
yet
how many
puckerings can I present
to new suitors
all intent
with new intents
and failing finishes?

A new kiss
with someone new
requires I think
first taking that dusty kiss
from the past renewed
and giving it first
another hopeless chance
and then infusing it with new
faith fulled energy
that says
we are all
renewed in the offering;
transformed
and cleansed
in the sacrament
that is the formerly dusty
transformed kiss;

and we thereby place ourselves
again in that category:
The
Hopelessly
Romantic Romantic.

So be it.