everything about
our first kiss
was bittersweet.
your lips tasted of
smooth tobacco
and mine of
sticky mangoes.
at the creek behind your house
a
everything about
our first kiss
was bittersweet.
your lips tasted of
smooth tobacco
and mine of
sticky mangoes.
what’s there left to say
when my tongue
once dripping with ink
has been wrung dry
and my lips
full and plump
in its past life
now indian burned
and spli n tered