"and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom"

edit/ this is tiff's questions of why, where, when, what, who of first kiss. :( :( but someone (especially the person who asked the question AHEM) says it's so Da Vinci code-like. !!! :(

a few more answered: Why do cows jump over the moon? I haven't got a clue why and because it's not scientifically proven! Maybe it's because moon is made out of cheese. Maybe the cow got angry that we're overslaughtering their species to make cheese from cow milk and therefore decided that jumping over the moons would avenge them. Crazy cows. No wonder there's mad cow disease. har har :)

and yes jon, we will go out for coffee and bitchtalk about people ;) I promise upon my berriness. Hahaha :)

-

kisses,

prologue:

In most ways, I will say I don’t remember how they taste like, if they were a rush of fluttery desire and excitement while everything just stops. But I remember sleep and I remember warm blankets, but to recall contact can be wearisome. I’ve been delaying writing this because I keep trying to remember what was fact and not fiction, what was at the time considered real. I don’t know what the kisses are supposed to mean, if “I love you, really” is a gesture of empathy because we needed security, and a moment of perfect clasp. And if silence is a muted recognition, that was my answer. Sometimes it takes a while for me to realise that if I said anything afterwards, I would end up lying anyway. As to why, I can only guess. Why kisses? A need for closeness, an intimacy within reach of easiest convenience. Physical contact always drives us somewhere isolated and in some ways, romantic. In retrospect, I know of my dry almost-bleeding lips (as always) the rough texture against warm and cold surroundings. Then pressure, then slicking of lips.

Everything will seem so distant now, but it was warm. Goddamn heat, I remember. Irradiation of my skin, radiation of those glares – I don’t believe in enough to find courage to look straight –they were enough to make me feel faint, dizzy with anger and dissatisfaction. I don’t think it was any consolation if then when I am told I have nice eyes, I don’t think anything is ever good enough for you, really. And then it was mid afternoon (I would say summer but summer’s hotter) and the dawn before I left Rome, on the glimpse of being whisked away to the city of lights, the wonderful European cities. If anything, I was drowned with wanderlust and giddy with nervous apprehension of foreign sights and new skies. Then everything really didn’t seem so important.

There were window grills and overhead shelves, comics and a cluttered floor. “oh god your room is so messy” – and then, fatigue and sleep. And then the kisses. In that chronological order.

And then the question, who?

It's so simple. The question answers itself ;)

epilogue: Maybe my memory's like a whitewashed wall, eroded by everything and I can't phase through them in detail. Maybe I'm mistaken by what I said about passion and affections, maybe I'm wrong. But it doesn't mean that you were right either.