5:23 am and delirious.

Wondering forward, I wander backwards to a place in time. A feeling sealed tight around an action. A packaged feeling positioned in an action’s space, however,—and this is where it exists out of existence—, retaining the attention of a place in time. This is the feeling of a fixed kiss. A kiss fixed on a place (a pair of lips). A kiss fixated on the space in which the action revolved. But after rationalizing and over-reasoning, this was and that is a kiss fit only for the fixation of a time. Lips match and melt having found their match. Do they freeze to a state of solid-tude when one of the two pairs of lips decide they are completely drained and therein, matchless? I remember my lips matching and melting in mid-kiss. I miss making lips melt and remember having had them match. But I don’t miss remembering the memory or miss making memories from the rememberings. Matchless, I now know three things though that I had not known before the time my lips matched and melted. One of three being, lips melt from a kiss that found its match, but the match is beyond the subject of the kiss. To have a matching kiss that melts, the time is what you need to have it made. I know the subject. I have the lips. I can take our lips back to the space. But it is beyond my natural abilities to take us back to the place in time when the lips matched and made a melting kiss. Imagination can be called upon, but that is not real and the action would be fraudulent. Backwards wondering on a match, I wander forward matchless.