Image: © Johannes Mändle, Banc en bois brun près d’un mur blanc, Unsplash license, Source.
Author: Andreia Abreu Remigio
Our first kiss happened in the dark,
In a twin-size bed in early October.
Love hits at first sight – lightning strikes a spark.
That Wednesday night, had we been sober,
You wouldn’t be longing for white tulip and barley now,
And I wouldn’t be lying in bed naked,
Practicing my vows.
…
Rain drops from the night and tears from your cheeks.
We drag our hearts through Vienna streets,
Through your childhood home. The floor creaks.
Two things rise and morning creeps under the sheets.
And even when the moon turned green,
You kissed my angered wound; you kissed it clean.
I know the secrets clasped between your blooms,
Twinkling eyes and tipsy, so we kiss in bathrooms.
Closed eyes and consuming, so we kiss again.
We make out and follow wandering hands…
And I make out every hushed and hurried love note.
We make out and I can feel my heart in my throat.
Our last kiss happened under runway lights,
In an airport terminal in early October.