I remember you.
Sweet, seventeen you
brand new scruffy beard
and black gym shorts
kissing me on the couch
when my parents weren't home.
Sweet, seventeen you
with those same bright eyes
and citric smile that stung the taste buds
on my tongue.
Sweet, seventeen you
drowned in sheer dumb luck and cheap Captain Morgan
(or whatever ***** it is you like to drink.)
Sweet, seventeen you
with callused hands, dirt stuck in the worry lines
and nails bit down to the bone.
Sweet, seventeen you
pushing my hair out of my face with those same ***** hands,
same reliant arms,
same crooked-tooth smile.
Sweet, seventeen you
with scared knuckles and a bare chest
just begging someone with the same youth
and vibrancy
to kiss it until the leather wore out
until the venom was ******
so you could stay sweet,
seventeen you
forever.