I have seen this before.

I have written the chapter,

penned the verses in ink and skin,

pressed my name into the sighs of lovers

who swore they had never been kissed

until they were kissed by me.

I began this dance sixty years ago—call it dating if you like, but I prefer to think of it as an art, a conversation of glances and pauses, of knowing when to linger and when to leave them wanting. By now, I’d like to think I have the form perfected, though the best artists always leave room for a little ... improvisation.

My thanks goes to ARTSTACK for dishing out such delectable prompt words today. It is an interesting poem if I say so myself. *ahem*