In the shower this morning I thought "you kiss like the rich" and wondered for the life of me why I liked the sound of it so much. I thought drawing a pair of lips might help me understand. But my own drawing didn’t come out so well, so I just traced some lips from a book of someone else’s drawings. Just like that, their drawing became mine—and maybe mine becomes yours for a moment or two while you look at the lips (how green they are!) How easily we give to and take from one another, and how easily this can upset or surprise us! How light is the touch that tickles. The hot water wasn’t working this morning, so I just crouched down in my nakedness and used the tepid gush to make a Clearasil lather for my face. Somewhere deep in my mind the green lips were kissing. Maybe they were green with envy—maybe green with riches.
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