I do not know how to tongue kiss
It reminds me of agricultural science; learning about cows’ digestive systems and rumination,
the process of tongues stuffed against one another
mouth full, and saliva- everywhere.
Where do you want my tongue to go when yours is in my mouth
Your lips feel like new socks
The smell of pancakes on a cold winter morning and warm milk
Like the last time I hugged my grandmother, my only home.
A night sky in the village; the only source of light and stillness
I do not like the way you touch me,
My mind drifts to the idea of someone else,
I say her name in your mouth,
Before and after my morning prayer; even when I pray for you.
I have not allowed anyone in my mouth after you, because they are not you.
But you are also not her.
Machoene Mashlene Matlwa is a writer, poetry performer and art lover.