I like this little kiss
when lips not fully closed
come together like kernels of
popped rice in green tea.

The kiss that says
I love you as I love the scent of grass.
I love this time and space.
I am not worried.

The kiss that does not last
but has the definite taste of rain
and reminds me of
clouds resting on a hill.

Poem and illustration by Gregoire Vion.