My father's kisses

Have you ever thought of those peck on the cheeks? Have you ever realised the stories they carry and the wounds they dress? I have, and I feel like no other feeling can ever parallel the enormity of this...

My father kisses
 As though bodies are being ripped apart
 And the only thing they can do
 Is soak in each other's taste
 My father kisses
 As though the garden he built
 Over years
 Has suddenly burst to life
 And the first ray of sun
 Has hit his soul
 My father doesn't kiss
 The mere surface of skin
 He kisses
 Things far beyond it
 His fingers linger in your hair
 And his nose collects your sweat
 Relearning it's taste
 My father kisses
 As though histories of familiar faces
 And known scents
 Are stored within
 And that somehow
 That fleeting moment of his lips
 And your skin
 Will redefine your humanity
 And as though somewhere
 A body will feel alive
 Again