kisses

While writing in my Morning Pages earlier, this thought, couched as a question, blew into my mind – “Are there kisses left?” Then it camped out. I sat there, paused, wondering – are there any kisses left in my life? Not sister, daughter-in-law, best friends formality kinds of kisses. No – the real, real kisses you can imagine if you give it a second.

I have some ideas regarding where this thought/question may have came from — current stuff going on, my age, all the factors contributing to the “Here” of me right now. Today. And the fact I have to travel back two Aprils to remember the last one.

I carried the question on my walk. Are there only so many kisses allotted to a life, and now mine are all used up, checked off in a book somewhere? And can I really imagine, see myself, kissing someone, with my eyes closed, within the realm of the etherealness of romance? Like, really meaning it. All-in. Grokked.

There may be no more kisses – Oh no!! There may be more kisses – Oh no!!

I don’t know.