Almost forgotten dream

I dreamed we caressed each other
on a warm hillside

The gentle warm breezes
almost as soft as your skin

The fragrance of the wildflowers
almost as pleasing as the scent of our passion

As our lips parted you asked?
‘Where do the kisses go when my lips have left yours’?

‘They collect as a shield against the
jagged, splintering edges of everyday life,

They fall from my lips, long after yours have
disentangled from mine,

Like pine needles
fallen from a centuries old conifer,
growing so long on this rocky slope.

These kisses carpet
the hard ground at my center, they cushion
the sharp edges of myself’, … I replied.