I only kissed her
To make her shush,
But I continued
Silence in no rush
To hear or to see
Her crimson blush.

We had communion
Past when we couldn’t breathe,
But we were at our loom
Learning to intricately weave.
An onlooker would’ve thought
Us a human wreathe;
If we’d separated forcefully
Our chests would heave.

Like this naught matteréd
Besides the pure elation,
Not even when we died
Of breathless suffocation.
Onward we kissed
Ignoring salvation,
Smooching blissfully
Eternity’s duration;
I’d no intentions of hearing
Her whining frustration.