First Kiss #Poetry

I remember the time when Sade said the line/
?It’s never as good as the first time?
A fantastic/ classic/ felt in my soul & in my spine/
As it traveled to my mind/ it made my memories rewind/
Like your favorite cassette/ remembering a time that I would never forget/
Nostalgia is great for getting us inside of our feelings a little bit/
& I admit/ I was inside of mines the more I thought about it/
It made me consider how much truth was in her statement/
On that same playlist/ Mary J. Blidge sang one of her first album hits/
Reminisce?/ Reminisce?/ Reminisce ?
Which made my mind skip/
like a spinning rock across the water/
To the time I had my first kiss/
To my delight/ Sade was right/ that was until I started second guessing/
Like/ First kiss?/ As in passionate French/ or are we talking first lip to lip contact with the opposite sex?/ that WASN’T related to you/
If that’s the case/ I have a first kiss/ and I’ve also got a first miss/
where my tongue on tongue game was novice level at best/
My first miss was entirely too wet/
Her name was Diane/
& all she said was “Damn”
Drool was everywhere/ I’ll just leave it there/
Like two lovers instinctively change their head’s positions/ in the midsts of their kissing/
I will switch from first miss to first kiss/
5505 Beach Channel Drive/ Far Rockaway Queens/ I’m 9 years old/ on an elevator that was twice my age/
This particular project/ had many a ghetto princess/ I was lucky enough to have two living in my building that were both competing over me/
I really was unsure as to why/ other than I was the new guy/ or maybe run, catch & kiss/ was the shit/ in the hood/
April was 10/ dark chocolate skin/ & as a matter of fact/ she had long black hair down her back/
Needless to say I was certainly smitten/
Rise was 9 like me/ also as fine as can be/
She was the color of honey/ & smelled like strawberries/
Puerto Rican if I remember correctly/
Again I say/ were both eager to get me/
April would win the race to my face/
On the elevator of the building is where I first got a taste/
She took my hands in hers/
Spread my fingers & my arms until I was in a flying pose/
She put her crotch on my crotch as we came nose to nose/
She kissed me like I saw grownups kiss on the late night tv shows/
Meanwhile my crotch got hot/ as the blood began to flow/
The elevator stopped & so did she/
I’m still in the flying pose/
Eyes closed/
I suppose/
She giggled as she left me standing there/
But I didn’t care/
I was perfectly fine/
Confirming the truth of that line/
 It’s never as good as the first time



author/novelist/poet also known as Graffiti Bleu, loves and lives in northern California. He was born in New York City and received some serious game and [learn more]

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