I was watching Veronica a few days ago, in which the protagonist soliloquizes about what a kiss is and means. She is a doctor and her description is fairly clinical. Her attempts to transition from physiology to poetry could use help from poet Tony Hoagland who has written about this.
My kisses make her happy and I need that.The movie was interesting to me in how it portrayed depression but left it to the viewer to interpret how the protagonist overcame it. There was the undercurrent of missing love and never quite getting it the way it was desired from whom it was desired. It was this longing for what was seemingly out of reach that made Veronica melancholy. Reading the Hoagland poem made me think if was possible that a superior articulation of desiderata could lead someone to their destination with less pain experienced along the way.
And sometimes, bending over her,
I have the unmistakable impression
that I am watering a plant.
gripping myself softly by the handle,
tilting my spout forward
pouring what I need to give
into the changing shape of her thirst.
I keep leaning forward to pour out
what continues to rise up
from the fountain of the kisses
which I, also, am drinking from.