Do you remember your first kiss? Damn right, you do. It was a rite of passage and potentially the most meaningful experience of your life. While the heating blood power-pumped on the inside, the bone-dry lips and frozen hips barely budged on the outside.

Awkweird.

Thank God it gets better. Much better.

Because this transformative initiation into adulthood is when everything changes.

It’s where the meaning of life goes from crayons and cartoons to cocktails and condoms. This is the earth-rattling shift in your awareness of how the universe works, cracking open the sky like a beak poke through the shell. What you previously identified as your directive in life—to have pajamas that match the sheets on your bunk bed and a thrilling Pokemon card collection–has now been completely capsized.

The moment your tongue instinctively slides past the lips and touches the wet warm juices from a nice, equally energized mouth, it’s as if a tornado of lightning bolts gathers into your spine and then your groin, causing the beanstalk to jut skyward onto which Jack climbs to the bed of heaven.

Life’s greatest reward.

This is the spark that ignites the magic. And magic is the applicable word for a wicked kiss. Because alchemy happens everywhere all the time, but unfortunately our initial excitement becomes dull as we get distracted by machines and the need to possess them. The passing of years renders regret and resentment, and priorities shift when the additions of responsibilities become glaringly obvious. In its place, we fill the void with cheap thrills, blindly expecting to return to that moment when two tongues first met.

So, kiss more. Do it with intention.

The lips are the catalyst to all things sexy.

Including your bong.