The lips he kissed were soft, but cold. They tasted acrid with poison.
The eyes he kissed were closed. He had closed them with trembling fingertips, hours ago.
Anger had made his hands shake. Now they trembled no more, and his own eyes were dry.
The forehead he kissed was cold and waxy. It had been like that even before all life had left
the body before him, before the conium had stopped the heart from beating and the lungs
The hair he kissed was as beautiful as always. When he kissed it, his composure gave way.
FAREWELL (drabble) by Holde_Maid
I blame this on my dear angelic and devilish friends *wink* and their Kissing Challenge. Mistakes and errors, however, are entirely mine. :-) Rating: PG 13? (Well, less than Plato's text(s) about this matter, considering his account was pretty detailed...)