Bad Kiss

Because your kiss, your kiss is all that I miss...

Still couldn’t dismiss the kiss that night, the kiss that lingered throughout my day and still surfacing in some cold nights. Sometimes it gives pauses in my busy day. And there are moments that it plays vividly in my mind that I could almost hear it, feel it, and taste it so real. 

Sometimes it is good to be bad, because sometimes bad is really good. I think it also applies in kiss, there is good kiss and bad kiss. I asked a friend about it, and he just told me that it is not about the kiss itself, it is more of the kisser; therefore, for him it is good kisser and bad kisser. But based from my meandering experience, there is actually a bad kiss. Yes, it happened to me. Bad kiss is not something that is sloppy, a beginner or an idiot sucker. Bad kiss is neither the romantic kiss nor the squelchy brute kiss. It is not the licking of tongue, and not even the biting and shredding off your membrane. Bad kiss overshadows good kiss. It mounts above the romantic and wild. Because bad kiss is bad. And bad is not just good, it is heaven. A bad kiss is like the forbidden fruit. Thou shall not eat that fruit. Thou shall that execute that kiss. You should never commit bad kiss, because it will drive you crazy.

Bad kiss exists.

fire dance

The room was filled with smoke, eyes were scowled with the orb flashing dirty look to the crowd. The Dj was ecstatic in the Olympus, playing the sensual seduction; while the gods were enticing the mortals. It was a shindig of flesh wherein every move compels impiety, a sort of luscious vulgarism.

Everyone’s dancing, feeling young with Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream, with eyes probing to possible prospect for final submission of offering. The god must be generous for I easily caught an eye to my lamb. There’s the gift, wildly scurrying in the savanna of vehement animals. The offering was neatly presented, and it was a bit tamed, restrained by some influence, and I guessed that supremacy was shared between us. And yes, I wasn’t wrong the repressed position was fueled with hunger. The offering looked into my eye, and I would want to slay it immediately with my greediness. As an impulse, I went to my offering’s corner. The lamb yanked on me in a harsh yet in suggestive style. I made up a choleric taste and apology was given by the offering. I took off my mask and I answered back with fondle on the lambs’ shoulder going down to the spine, and I whispered “It is okay” in a carnal way.

I went back to my tribe and danced with the smoke and dazzling lights. And after two to three songs, I was hit again on my back. I turned around and saw the offering with the sultry eyes. I wouldn’t want to waste any minute so moved in close to the offering. But the lamb transformed into ferocious beast. It grabbed my hands and bent my neck. It started to drain all my energy. I could see the crowds in euphoria, but the phase of our movements were getting dawdling as we got closer to each other. I could smell the desire, the call of lust. We started fondling each other in slacken kinesis. Then our kiss tailed along the beat of the music. It was heaven. The gods were indeed full of generosity; it filled the room with milk and honey.