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Brief Encounters with Sculpture: 1. The Kiss, Rodin

August 22, 2016 5:57 pm Published by
Encounter 1: The Kiss, Rodin

My mouth is dry. I have just walked from Hotel de Ville.

THE KISS.

Someone once told me that kissing originated from animals passing food to their young,
Dribbling mashed up food-spit into poised gasping mouths,
Survival became indulgence,
Regurgitation became reciprocated.

This kiss emerges from a block of marble.
A kiss from hell.

The key moment, the mouth, is obscured from my view by her arm. Private.
I have to crouch down to see the kiss, looking up through the gap between their torsos.

THE KISS.

Neither carved nor pronounced lips gently pressing on one another.
Not individual lips, but a place where the stone is continuous.
Left Joined. Fused. Locked. Forever… Ugly?

Mouth to mouth.
Stone to stone.
Stone.
Block.

Am I looking at marble? Am I looking at marble imitating flesh? Am I looking at soft flesh? Flesh on flesh?
Chisels pronounce bodies, with grasping mouths and toes that slip back into stone.

New love starts to lose its grip.

Encircling…
I catch a glimpse!
Still the moment is obscured by pressed nose and feminine cheek.

But I feel rejected and isolated
‘Cause I seek a kiss that can’t be located

But my life is incomplete and I’m so blue
‘Cause I can’t get next to you (Babe).