Tag Archives: first kiss

A Change of Season

Mussy, short cut hair, and those bright blue eyes.

               Too large flannel, long sleeved shirt, dark colored tee.

               Fading denim jeans, and worn out Converse high tops.

               First of autumn, evening coming crisp as dry, dead leaves.

 

               My palms are sweaty, and I’m hot despite the cool air.

               The stars starting to bejewel the blood velvet of sunset.

               You smile, but don’t look at me, as I try to gather my nerve.

               My hands tremble, and the damp smell of leaves is sweet.

 

               I take your hand in mine, and squeeze. You sigh, turn to me.

               We face each other, eyes bright and clear and as open as the sky.

               I stroke your cheek, and you close your eyes, lean into my fingers.

               Leaves fall and the trees die back, but life is ever bright and warm.

 

               Unsure, I lean forward, our lips touching, and you kiss me back.

               My hand on your cheek, your fingers stroking my curly, wild hair.

               I am warm like I swallowed the sun, wrapped in eternal, divine light.

               The season has changed, light in the dark, as we walk hand in hand.

Two Sides of the Moment

I remember the first girl I kissed. I remember the time I had with her as being perfect, even holy. There was no darkness or fear in those two days, only peace and her love.

I still warm myself by that memory, and by her, in the worst parts of sleepless nights, shitty days, and just times when it seems like everything is hopeless and just empty.

I haven’t seen or heard from her in over ten years. Life separates people. Things change. People come and go and you turn your head and when you look back there gone forever.

I wonder if that time we had together, that moment of warmth in the cold grey of November, means anywhere near as much to her as does me, how does she see it, then and now?

I was lonely and angry and just in the darkest days of my life, and she was like an angel, a piece of some better world, some strange miraculous wonder. The last shining light for years.

Who was I to her? A cute guy? Someone she did care for? Does she ever think of me, now? Would I want to see her again? Ask her what it meant to her? Should I just keep my own fire lit?

I am to young to have these lonely old man thoughts, but here we are. So much time to fill, without my own family or even close friends, just me and the thoughts that fill my head.

Goodnight sweetheart, God bless you, I hope your life is wonderful, and full of love.

Part of me will always be in love with you, and will remain in that tourist town, in cold November.