I remember the first guy
that I had ever wanted
to make me into art
with his finger tips

He was annoying and loud
nasty and grungy
He was somewhat disrespectful
to my dad
and that fuiled a fire of desire
so roaring and blue
that even one touch
would have consumed every inch
of every city and meadow inside him

He was a skater
with a mohawk to boat
A hot gothic style
HeHe'd lift his shirt to wipe
sweat off his forehead
Revealing his happy trail and
that special v
Sitting on the concrete floor
even the coolness from it
couldn't even calm my heat
at that moment

He was a few years older
smoking cigarettes in the back
He'd only pay me mind
when I tried acting offended
by his rude behavior
He'd laugh when I got flustered
and go back to his cool friends

And I went back to
the good godly girl
I would've ditched to partake
in his afterglow