Kkkkkkkisssssssssssssss.
I made that sound,
said the word
the first time.
Who
knew how to do
them at twelve?
Other boys?
Fruit
is the taste I
remember.
A berry:
rasp, maybe straw?
Less
saliva than
more knowing
hot kisses
I've
enjoyed much more
- and think of
so much less.
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | September 1, 2008 - 17:07
I remember my first kiss. We were both twelve. He has improved since then I must admit ... but after forty or so years, he's had quite a lot of practice!
I enjoyed your poem, very much.
"Fruit
is the taste I
remember.
A berry:
rasp, maybe straw?"
My favourite stanza.
Tina