First loves are vital and influential.
They are fresh and ripe in our minds,
always on the tip of our tongues,
they drip from the lips down to the chin,
down to the ground where you hope
it blossoms and blooms something always so beautiful.

First heartbreaks are crucial and powerful.
They are putrid and sour in our mouths,
always on the tip of our fingers, in between your balled up fists,
you’re just anticipating that piece of you to return to you, though it rarely does,
they trickle down to the ground quite devastatingly and deadly
where you hope it doesn’t rot your whole garden.