It was the seventh grade, and I had begun exchanging notes with a girl I found myself thinking about between every class. There was a certain innocence in those notes, little windows into our youthful curiosity about one another. At a friend’s birthday party, we played a game that felt monumental at the time; Seven Minutes in Heaven. We sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between us buzzing with nervous anticipation, until our names were called. My heart raced as we stepped into the darkened closet, the world outside falling away.

In the quiet of that small space, I reached for her hands, unsure and trembling. She leaned in gently, and as if drawn by a shared instinct, I followed. Our hands slowly parted, giving way to an embrace. What began as a shy, tentative kiss soon blossomed into something more; seven minutes of exploration, where the unfamiliar became familiar, and a first kiss unfolded into a world entirely new to me.

In that brief span of time, I discovered the sweet weight of connection, as though we’d uncovered some secret, unspoken yet understood. It was a moment both thrilling and terrifying, a tender initiation into the mysteries of affection.

——————

I reached for you with hands
that had never known such trembling,
and you leaned in, soft as breath.
Together we crossed the thin line
between innocence and the edge of knowing.

In that quiet, our lips found each other,
tentative explorers of an undiscovered world.
Seven minutes stretched into forever,
as our hands fell away and we held on tighter;
a first kiss becoming seven minutes
of sweetness, of shared discovery.

— Sincerely, Boris