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One Kiss

Retta Lewis

One kiss,
And I thought
I would learn a kind of truth.

Drawn to the center
Of some meeting point—
Become different—
Almost hopeful—
Watching my surroundings
Expand and contract.

One kiss,
And my mother’s voice
Became a roar,
But the voices
Inside my head
Did not start there.

Myth had always
Outstripped logic,
And madness, of course,
Soon followed.

Advice would come to me freely,
But wisdom, not so much.

Methods of engagement mattered,
Topics of discussion required study,
But there was none of that with me.

One kiss,
And a thousand voices spoke to me
Of things I had not thought,
Of feelings I had not felt,
Of connections I had not made.

We were all of us uninformed
About the shadows, and how to read them.

And there was always the bigger picture—
Little girl lost, and full of questions
About the ticking inside her head.

The scary places were holding firm,
And the rescue plan was late.

The kiss, though full of teachable moments,
Would teach no girl this way.

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