The Kiss

Her lips were bright red, full. I sat on her couch with my hands in my lap as she moved towards me. Her hand went to my hair - where it has rested so many times before. Our lips met. I’ve never kissed someone with lipstick on before. I could feel the lipstick between our lips - branding me for this transgression.

It was incredible. She was so beautiful - all in black, one of the few women in the world, or at least in my world, who could pull off truly red lipstick. As we pulled apart I felt truly and utterly exposed, almost naked. But at least I’d had her kiss.

A few minutes, or maybe hours, later her husband came home. She introduced us and I talked about all my crazy jobs, all the while the lipstick, now on my lips, a bright red flag of betrayal. He didn’t notice. He seemed like a nice man, not deserving of our treachery.

I just wanted him to leave so I could have her back, make her mine, but no luck. I would have to wait for another one of those kisses, all the while thinking of my wife and her husband. Our infidelity didn’t bother me.

And then the alarm went off. As my wife crawled back into bed I told her I’d just had “such a crazy dream.”


Phoebe Guider is a writer and artist living with her wife in Richmond, VA. More of her writing can be found