The Gravity of a Kiss by Olivia Salter | Poetry

 

The Kiss by Gustav Klimt

The Gravity of a Kiss

by Olivia Salter

We stood in silence, side by side,

The noise of cars, the city's tide.

Your fingers twitched but didn’t stray—

Were you unsure or choosing to stay?

The air between us, thick and still,

Like holding breath against your will.

I wondered if you felt it too,

This quiet thing that slowly grew.

Your hand brushed mine, a fleeting dare,

I caught my breath, unsure, aware.

A pull between us, soft but strong,

Like something here had waited long.

Your eyes held mine, a question posed—

Do we stay here, or lean in close?

The space between us shrank, then held,

As if the world had paused, expelled.

A gust of wind, your coat uncurled,

Your lips, a doorway to another world.

I saw your nerves in every move,

But I felt mine, as if to prove—

That once we crossed this fragile line,

No turning back, no stopping time.

So when you leaned and met me there,

It wasn’t lips, it wasn’t air—

It was the warmth of something new,

A spark that suddenly burst through.

The world around us ceased to be,

And all I knew was you, just we.

Your lips were soft, like falling snow,

A slow descent I couldn’t know.

The taste of you was bittersweet,

Like something right, but incomplete.

A pause, then tremble, and we broke,

But in your eyes, the embers stoked.

I didn’t speak, I couldn’t dare,

But something changed, just hanging there.

We stood apart, but still as one,

The weight of what we’d just begun.

A kiss that altered time and space,

A promise held in warm embrace.