BURNING EMBERS

This one came from a deepened sense of loss of a first kiss. I've never had mine but listening and reading other women's accounts made me feel that it was a loss I bore of my own.

Skin on skin contact,
wandering hands
accompanied with conjoined lips. Saliva is exchanged,
dripping down in streaks over our chins. A dog salivating with hunger.
Sloppy and slimy.
I feel the chapped surface with its curved edges of his bottom lip, his tongue maps out the inside
of my mouth.
Lingering taste of cheap beer between our intermingled breaths. And I let him.

15 and behind closed doors, in darkness,
the musky scent of his overused cologne Permeating my nostrils.
The bass from the outside shakes the whole room,
settles alongside my rapid heartbeat.
Previous desires of
sensual intoxication fades away. His lips feel like lead now;
with a raw fish shoved inside of my mouth Flapping, and of a
violent disposition.

5 seconds and it was over.
Left with a crusty face, residues from his slobbering.
An aftertaste of utter regret chokes me up,
more than he did.
He felt accomplished.
And I felt wasted.
Made a pact of forgo and forget, burn the memory,
throw it all out with the garbage.

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