A Kiss Poem by Soran M. H

On the window
The traces of lips
visible
neither the heavy rain
nor the thick dust
wiped it away
a shape of honest lips
-of a soldier
never to return.
-of a poet
who did not realize that love
a mirage of existential instinct.
-of a mother
In her last meeting with her son,
convinced
that she would never see him
when he returned.
of a worker
to the home he built
before it was destroyed
but the window still unbroken...
all that remained
behind the traces of lips:
unfeeling bullets
a burnt collection,
a pair of slippers,
a broken image of memories
***