The First Place

I.
The first place you go is that adrenalin flirtation
every new liberty flashes
blue electricity in your stomach
little bursts of
unexpected sugar, moist hands buzz
where they touch, a kiss
is a flash flood.

When you were in sixth grade your best friend
dared you to put your tongue
on the end of a battery.
You stuck out just the tip, tenatively
touched it to the ragged connectors
and felt it - that ragged buzz
that widened your eyes, snatched your tongue
back into your mouth in surprise.

A first kiss
she says, winding a finger
deep into your palm, curled there warm
as a baby snake,
can be like that.

I want to give you shock treatments
connect the current of my fingers
one in your mouth, one in your cunt
touch my nipples exactly to yours
and make sparks.

II.
I do, I want
she insists and takes my arm, twists
those long fingers. I am,

I need
As if her eyes will convince
me just because
they are so green,
her gaze licks at
my mouth
my hostage ears.

Imagine some small, wet bead
emerges, flickered across
like my tongue on yours
slides her hand to mine and circles
one small finger in hers and I am
led to her mouth like a lamb.

She could lay me down like
the lamb on a platter, Eve's apple
in her singular and luscious mouth,
fingers and tongue
buzzing
like bare wires.