Heaven Is Comfort, But It's Still Not

I Stared At Her Black Hair. It Was Shiny Like The Promises In Magazines.

I Was The Girl He Had Chosen To Kiss. He Wanted, Somehow To Set Me Free. He Didn't Want To Burn My Photo Or Toss It Away, But He Didn't Want To Look At Me Anymore, Either.

Our Only Kiss Was Like An Accident- A Beautiful Gasoline Rainbow.

He Had Been My Almost. My Might-have-been. I Was Afraid Of What I Wanted Most - His Kiss. Still, I Collected Kiss Stories. -susie Salmon

Who Would Have Thought Something That Happened That Long Ago Could Have Such Power?