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What are you waiting for?
A kiss. The word is sweet. Why should your lips fear to pronounce it? If it burns them now, what will it do when words turn into deeds? Do not be frightened. Even now I felt how you stopped teasing and passed fearlessly from smiles to sighs, and then from sighs to tears. Oh pass once more, slowly, unconciously- from tear to kiss is but a quick heart's beat.
A kiss when all is said is- what? A compact sealed, a promise carried out? An oath accomplished and a vow confirmed? The rosy dot upon the i in "loving"? A secret for no ear, but for the lips? The velvet humming of an amorous bee: the endless moment of infinity? The heart's communion cup that tastes of flowers? The breathing in a little of the soul when the pure spirit rises to the lips?
A kiss has such nobility that even the Queen of France, the Queen herself, bestowed a kiss upon her favorite lord. And so, like Buckingham, the lord, I've suffered and been still. Like him, I love my Queen unswervingly. Like him, I am faithful and sad.
