Your love is an injury time winner
in the World Cup Final; a knockout punch.
It's overtaking on Beckett's corner,
or winning the National by ten lengths.
It's a treble-twenty, a perfect score,
a one-four-seven at the Crucible.
It's the game, set and match at Wimbledon.
Your love's like Istanbul, it's beautiful.
Your kisses are a number one single
at Christmas; a festival headliner.
An anthem through the last term of High School;
a slow dance at a Wedding in summer.
They’re a disco beat with a hook to match;
they’re spitting rhymes and waxing lyrical.
They’re the Motown hits with the fingersnaps;
your kisses are like Smokey, a miracle.
by T. J. Dennett