On kissing.

Sometimes it’s terrible.

Then there are times when you kiss your way to heaven until your lips ache and you realize the guy you’ve been drooling with is named Dwight. Which adds a different dimension to the kisses and makes you wonder about his mother, who is suddenly present in the kiss, inserting herself between your lips and his, altering the fullness, the swelling ardors. Dwight? What the fuck? Oh God.