You kissed me.’ I tear my eyes away from the mirror to face her. We are close, so close standing here. My lungs might be carved out of granite, cast from bronze, the way they refuse to expand, to fill with air.’You kissed me back,’ says Kat softly.I nod. There’s nothing more to say.

You kissed me.’ I tear my eyes away from the mirror to face her. We are close, so close standing here. My lungs might be carved out of granite, cast from bronze, the way they refuse to expand, to fill with air.’You kissed me back,’ says Kat softly.I nod. There’s nothing more to say.

– Elissa Janine Hoole –

Kiss the Morning Star

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