3.
The first time
I thought I dreamt it.
She kissed me,
so quickly,
the smell of something sweet
lingered even after she pulled
away. Away, only to return
one –twice – three times more.
Sorry, she said. You just look
like a breath of summer,
sitting there. I love summer.
Her voice fades like wind,
and I thirst for it.
Say it again, I ask.
Her eyes search me,
it no longer makes me nervous
when she does this.
Her gaze lingers on my lips, then
Meets mine.
Please, I whisper.
I wish.
You look – she says, kisses
the dip of my cheek
– like summer –
she moves to my earlobe –
sitting there. In a final breath,
placed in my own mouth
so sweet
I will have cavities forever,
she says,
just for me, yes?
I nod, yes
just for you.
YOU ARE READING
Bloom, Shifting
PoetryElliot. The name sits on my tongue, melting as if it were sugar. Elliot. I hold that sweet name in my mouth all the way home, mouthing it to the darkness. She moves to the city to learn how to write. She trades redwoods for skyscrapers and...
