I closed my eyes,
and touched my soft lips.
tracing its shape,
I had a flash back,
to a time when he kissed me.
his kiss wasn't a benevolent,
loving kiss,
not something I would love to think about,
or reminisce,
but the flash back struck a part so deeplu hurting,
I tried to fight off the thoughts of him kissing me.
His kiss hurt me.
it was done out of desire and selfishness.
it didn't mean anything to him,
but to me it did.
like a nightmare,
that kiss still haunts me.
and to this day,
I fear to kiss anyone in fear of being *****.

The hazel centers draw me in
and the comfort of the pools of green
and blue keep me in, so soft and peaceful
wishing to be seen.

So I cannot deny it,
can not deny your eyes
their need to be seen
by mine.

Eyes closed, yes eyes
and what is wrong
there is always something
something is always wrong.

The center of your eyes draw me in
and the serene pools hold me close
but I pull back and push away because
no matter how you love, he still loves the most.

lettuce forget just for
two hours that we just
met and really you could
be anyone, and lettuce
sustain our teenage
stereotypes, nourish them
with our shared saliva
by the fire -
we are cold and soft
like snow and we are
happy to share our
lizard tongues and lizard brains,
our foolish young
emotions firework in our skulls,
ricocheting against the walls.
sparks.

earlier i watched snow drift down
the chimney,
slowly melt, while ash
was propelled back up
by hot air:
neither sustained for long
in new environments, in foreign
air;
similar up-and-down particles
which i watched while
our hot sweaty hands lay open
like flower petals,
at our sides waiting.
someone had to move
(i did),
petals clasped together and
i noticed the warmth and roughness
of your hands.

i smiled and continued
to watch the flames.