somehow, less distant

as a kind of challenge to herself
to gauge her time-keeping abilities
and find out how good she was
at sticking to deadlines
the woman decided to spend five whole minutes
on one kiss.

think about it.
three hundred seconds
focused on a mouth and one mouth only.

of course, the clock stopped ticking
at sixty.

the woman lost her footing altogether,
and stumbling, she saw that
even this slim acreage
could stretch to the length
of the moon.

so she paused, recalculated,
then unfastened herself
from calculation.

she became, instead,
a tentacle of patience,
as chartless as rain,

and the mouth,
resplendent moonscape,
opened to hers, distant
then, somehow, less distant.
and she gathered herself
for the long walk
home.