the love of kissing

When I was younger, so much younger than today this was the poem I wrote on walls, in books and in my diary.
A kiss, is a kiss, a plum is a plum, a kiss isn't a kiss without your tongue, so open your mouth and close your eyes and give your tongue some exercise.
It's kinda dorky and so extremely young that poem but it reflects my enormous love of kissing. I knew it when I got my first real kiss of teenage love. I knew it when I was 13 or 14 and his tongue touched mine and my knees got weak. I knew it when everything disappeared around me and his porch got blurry when my eyes closed. I knew it when the butterflies in my stomach started to go bananas. I knew I would strive for more. I discovered the fun in kissing other people. Me and my friends had parties where we had kissing competitions. Years past by and new boyfriends past along, new lips touched mine and I got older. Now my interest in kissing is as big as then but I've noticed fooling around is not as popular with guys my age. Now everything is about fucking. Kissing is just a milestone in what is really gonna happen afterwards. That makes me sad. Kissing is still one of the things I love in life. My friends says the same. No one hånglar any more. I miss kiss. Longing for my breath increase, my head spinning, my tongue carefully getting to know yours. Ah.. Kissing. Just kissing. It's so worth dry lips.