What’s this? A kiss, not lips,
Not lips, but still.

The cheek? My rosy coloured cheek.
And rosy coloured blush
That taints the meek

A dance? A slow unwinding dance,
A fast polka, a prance,
That takes us into trance.
That lasts the night

A touch, your soft but certain touch
Can never be too much,
There’ll never be enough
So gentle, never tough

What countless, countless nights to come..?

What’s here? No touch, no closeness under sheets
No dancing, no wild intertwine of feet
No blushes, no more warm cherished embrace
No intimacy, those kisses face to face

And you’ve left, with not a trace.