Here's a little poem I wrote a while ago that was inspired by the X-Files season eight finale.
kiss
the pleasure of a kiss
even if you are not the one
who is being kissed
is breathtaking
you watch as they
perform their ritual to the end
finally uninterrupted
by that something that stops you
from living your life
and takes it away
you are left with bittersweet memories
nothing else but a fleeting picture
of them kissing, even if only for
a moment in time
and as they stay forever so
the other and you become
nothing but ashes
ashes on the thin ice
of life
you are forgotten
they live on