Pardon my inattention. I am pondering kisses as I sip my beer.
and all the forgotten ones in between.
I contemplate the wild variety of meaning just the location of a kiss suggests:
If I have consumed enough beer, the puzzle can be extended to the metaphysical:
kissing the sky,
or the steel of my sword.
Let us not forget the emotionally charged:
kiss of death,
kiss the vein on my neck.
Please. Hold that thought while I snag us another round.