A kiss.
His lips have kissed mine a million times.
our first kiss wasn't fireworks, or shooting stars, it was whisky and vanilla pop. It was lipstick, and a mirror. It was a T shirt and hot water. Our first kiss wasn't perfect, it was ruined bed sheets, a drunken mistake. Our first kiss was breakfast, and a walk of shame. Our first kiss was typical, but our love... is classical, like the blue's in the 50's, and rock'n roll in the 60's. Hell, like Bonnie and Clyde.
Our love is a hot gun, and a game of catch me if you can, but I never want to hide.  
He isn't a prince, he eats with his elbows on the table, and his legs open. maybe a crumb on his cheek. He isn't rich, he doesn't wear a suit, and he doesn't use a tie. He is an island boy, with a heart of gold, and a mind of an Egyptian King.
His skin a perfect shade of melanin, like sweet toffee between my lips... I wish he'd stay there forever...
Our love is strong, and wild. it's delicious and addicting, but it isn't always fun, or beautiful. Sometimes we fight, and when we do, we know just how to hurt each other. That is the saddest part, I do have to admit. we learned how to dance with each other's devils, but at the end of the day, when we are tired of dancing, we take our dancing shoes off, and put them away. Our first kiss wasn't perfect, it might have been sloppy, and a drunken mistake. But if I could make that same mistake with him one more time, he better buy me breakfast in the morning. maybe this time I wouldn't be so nervous. If someone asked what our first kiss was like, i'd say it's kind of a funny story. Here's to our first kiss my island boy, and too many more.
yours truly, Pearl.