He said I'm a good kisser. ducks head
His. O, I wanted Joe to call me his, in pale
Excuse, and yes, to call him MINE. What hence?
But lo, I am. He's like a dream come true, a sense
Of all a girl wants in his sweetness, frail
As fancies ever were. Why, in betrayl?
To top it off, yes...what? but kissing thence
Is nat'ral, being in his arms like ah, whence?
Two puzzle pieces fitting in detail.
If I said "he is home to me as twere,"
Would all I've tasted then dissolve unto
Some naked shore the waves crash into fer
An endless washing of all that we knew?
He sez that love (in all caps) is too poor.
My legs and lips are what he wants. What's new?
My mother (when I was 14) begging me to save my kisses for the man who'd marry me, yes, he is the first since grade school and playing house with the neighbor boy. If this is the fun she alluded to, I'll never have my fill.