I liked not knowing what to do
and doing it anyway,
without practice, with abandon;
imperfect kissing. Undeserved certainty
laughing out between sharp brace wires.

Did I cut you when I pretended,
for a second, that we were almost,
almost, uninnocent; naked
when I grabbed your leg, then
all of you. Again. Then
again. Then
again.

And then somewhere in that mess of hair,
you breathed
and I thought it was for the first-time
because
that thought made me feel nice,

just like you did.
Again.