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Click hereMoving during the onset of
summer was pretty bad, but
it wasn't too terrible for
a new place. It had held
a rash of discoveries all its
own.
First time hanging out after sunset,
first party totally without the
chaperoning my sister always claimed
she didn't do,
first girlfriend to be acknowledged
among the rest of the gang.
I knew how to kiss, naturally, but
Troy had to go and bring up 'Frenching';
He lost me so completely I asked her
about it.
She had rolled her eyes, and giggled,
then looked at me and asked if I was
serious before taking me by my shirt
and bringing me in close. The first caress
against my lips made me open my eyes;
the second, my mouth.
I can still feel tongues and lips playing,
taste that mix of Juicy Fruit and
Coca-Cola that she left behind.
and the poem just rolls along and hits the reader with one image or sense memory after another to tell the story. I might lose a word here and there, but I'm nitpicky that way. Really good stuff, Remec.