Although Casanoava’s kiss was tempting.
It felt good.
Perhaps just to be kissed.
A feeling of matter.
So to speak.
At least something that was holding in that kiss for me.
It was also already a long time ago that I was kissed.
Nervous, I was just a little.
Perhaps for what was coming after a bit more.
That was also some time that it didn’t happen.
Not that it mattered, it was Casanova that gave it to me.
However it was him that gave me that kiss.
A kiss I kissed and it felt different than other times.
Not as sweet or something I wanted more.
It wasn’t that long ago.
Fresh on my mind you can softly say.
A memory that I like to keep and I felt there was something more to it.
I don’t know if it was with the person involved.
But definitely something that belonged with me.
That kiss is still on my lips, although I gave it to him.
Not so much something I was getting.
A whole new world was opening.
Because we can dream about someone to give us just that.
But I understand sometimes we want more.
After having that kiss.
The kiss itself is a topic, perhaps something we are regretting.
And that is perhaps what this kiss is trying to express.
The meaning of a kiss can say a lot.
What we want and desire.
Where we like to keep it, or hold on to.
For whatever sake that might be.
But when it comes to that kiss.
Where it stayed there and then.
On my lips and my mind as a memory.
And now written on this paper.
For me to understand.
It is the taste of that kiss that made me want more.
Not just in the sexual sense or with that intent.
But more that I realized something about myself.
A story I once heard.
About a frog that was a prince.
The prince that was looking for a princess to get that kiss.
For him to become his true self again.
The focus in this story is on the prince, the frog.
That he was so ugly and only a princess’ kiss would make him come back.
Ofcourse there is more to that story.
Perhaps a punishment he received that turned him ugly as a frog.
As little as a frog can be, that nobody was seeing him.
People would run away from that appearance of a frog.
Poor prince, I have to say.
But the kiss I gave had nothing to do with that.
It didn’t make me wonder if that person I was kissing was a frog.
In the hypothetical sense.
You know what I mean.
I already knew he wasn’t a prince.
That person I gave a kiss to.
A Casanova he is.
At least how I called him.
Because of his actions and the words he said.
‘That he would like to remember me one day and was happy he had met me.’
You know, those are only words that can be spoken from a Casanova.
Not only am I one of his seducings.
Something I also told him.
It goes both ways, where I take what I want and feel good for me in that moment.
And that is where I was kissing him.
Somewhere on a wooden bench.
Trees that were surrounding us.
To give us shade from the sun.
Perhaps even protecting us a little bit from people passing by.
It was where I understood that my kiss meant so much more.
That kiss I gave to him.
It was the epiphany that my kiss has a feeling that can go places.
Not just on the lips of Casanova.
Casanova will remain Casanova.
My kiss will not change any of that.
Casanova is a handsome guy and he knows it.
Speaks with the tongue that the girls understand.
Where he gets what he wants.
For some a trap, where tears are shed.
Something that makes the heart of Casanova beat.
But I am different from them.
I also told Casanova.
Perhaps even expressed in that kiss I gave him.
Because I know he is Casanova and I called him this long before we kissed.
And touched.
My kiss will stay on my lips, for me to kiss someone that is receptive to it.
If he is ugly I don’t know.
Like a frog.
Since I haven’t met him.
Yet or still.
But the story of the kiss and the frog involves a prince.
Wouldn’t it be great to have the other side of the story, where the kiss of the princess would do wonders to the ones she kisses?
Perhaps not to change the mind of a Casanova.
But that kiss can make him think. Perhaps even make him wonder.
To understand his own behavior and make the changes necessary for him to open his heart.
Face his fears and go on his knees.
For his own sake.
Wouldn’t that be a great story?
The journey of what a kiss means and does.
To the hearts of the desired ones.
At least something I felt in that kiss I gave him.
Not just to kiss and seek for a prince.
That sounds boring to me.
But a kiss that can turn those events that sometimes feel unfortunate to us.
To bring us back on the beaten path.
That to me is the moral of the story of ‘The Prince and the frog’.
To say, you don’t have to be a prince to receive such a kiss.
And that to me sounds like a journey of love.
To come back at that realization I was having.
After giving that kiss.
I am no princess and I can not turn someone into a prince.
Change him into someone he is not, let me say it like this.