The First Kiss Poem by Sharbaniranjan Kundu

When you are around me
I know you never forget your first kiss.
You try to gauge from time to time
at occasions opportune
whether that feeling
with which I kissed you
is still intact.

I know that.
I am not a scoundrel.
That flower of feeling
I have not thrown away.
It has transformed
into some plastic flower
that will never die.

You and I know,
separately though,
how important is that feeling
even now.
Not that I never fantasize
for a closer encounter.
Whether it takes place or not,
whether it is desirable at all,
is altogether a different matter.

That we separately can not forget the kiss,
that you still want to be reassured
from time to time
without anyone uttering a single word
is a treasure
difficult to come by!