Annabel kisses

Annabel kisses like the wind whistling

through the wattle

Annabel kisses like a prayer I said

at the age of nine

I couldn’t open my eyes for hours

Annabel kisses and our fireplace glows

Annabel kisses and the nuns at St Rita’s

turn their heads

Annabel kisses as the dogs bark

Annabel kisses on October 6th

all afternoon

two days before my birthday

Annabel kisses and even the ghost is silent

Annabel kisses with red lipstick

and her hand softly

on my wrist

Annabel kisses and I think of toothpaste

the 1992 Grand Final

and the beach on a family holiday

Annabel kisses with her eyes open

Annabel kisses in her black dress

with silver buttons

Annabel kisses with a sharp intake

of breath

Annabel kisses me

Annabel kisses me

and I kiss back.