I can’t say for sure, who kissed who or even why, a stolen
kiss in the dark of night, I would never give back, a thief in the night who
steals kissed whenever I can, filling a vacant space with them for a time when
I might be too infirmed to steal anything anymore, a bandit who uses kisses
instead of a gun, stopping you on the street demanding affection instead of treasure,
no mask – maybe only a patch over my right eye – to delude you as to who I am
and what I’ve come for. I always love to collect, steal your lips, maybe your
heart, to keep it forever, long after you may have forgotten why I came at all.
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