What if a kiss were a stone
Born in deep earth fires
Before it showed itself on lips?  

What if only winter freeze
Were strong enough to lift a kiss
And drive it across desert flats?  

Would a kiss, then, still be
Some uncertain event on the horizon?  

Or would it stand like a porphyry
Tower, a landmark, an anchor?  

Or would it be deadweight,
A millstone around the neck?