It Wasn't Your Kiss

It wasn't YOUR kiss
that I wanted to feel.
But it's your
kiss
that'll win me over.
It was never your lips
that haunted me
in summers,
or tortured me
in snow.
Never kissed
your dreams,
your face,
on nights too still
for solitude.
You never drew me in
like that.
Not with YOUR kiss.
Your ghost of a kiss.
But now it's you,
here,
pleading your case
on my lips,
and convincing me
fast
that whatever we are
should last.