VI - Kisses

A kiss really is the prayer on a mother’s tongue 
for her child studying abroad;
a kiss is the rose petal’s shimmy downward to wet 
earth, the smell of bwaden dancing in a pot - 
a kiss is the scald from hot tea drowning in your throat. 

A kiss is the innocent gasp of a child watching a malfini
burst into flight one summer afternoon;
it is the sturdy bark of great maho in the forests of Soufriere;
it is the boneless arch of a girl across her mother’s thighs; 
a kiss is the neighbour’s outstretched hand holding a basket   
of produce; it is the whispered ‘good morning’ at dawn. 

Kiss me all over, my island.