i press my lips against your cheek -
it leaves a mark, the stain of
a cherry kiss.

the colour doesn't bleed
on your skin like the juice of
a cherry stone on tissue paper.

i imagine it being absorbed
slowly through your epidermis, fusing with
your haemoglobin, becoming a part of you.

i picture the essence of my kiss flowing
through your blood towards your
cold lead heart.

i envision your impeccable resolve weakening
under the steady onslaught of my
unspoken challange. i could own you.

a cherry stone spat out onto a fresh
two-ply kleenex - its stain spreads, feathering slightly into
a faint, pretty imperfection, bending the tissue to its will.

with one kiss, i claim you.