The Kiss (Gustav Klimt)

She hears his hand
with her fingers.

They are surrounded
in a womb with whorls.

Her body blooms
and her hand crooks

or clings to his shoulder.
Her pharaoh face

is a faraway trance
in a patchwork of flowers.

This is their first kiss.
The next is ours.

From Love Poems

The Kiss (Gustav Klimt)