every time i close my eyes i relive that one kiss, that one night.
we were both drunk and she was on top of me, lips on mine;
chest on mine.
her hands were everywhere and her teeth were leaving purple bruises on my neck and our legs were entangled and my trembling...
nervous fingers were exploring every inch of her smooth skin they could reach.
her brightly coloured hair lit up the room and spots the shade of her danced beneath my eyelids;
and my hair splayed underneath me and it was created for the sole purpose of her hand twisting through it.
and we kissed.
hers tasted like cheap alcohol and fruit punch and mine probably tasted like giddiness.
it was the first time i kissed a girl but it meant nothing to her.
i wasn’t the only one that night
and her hair is different now,
and so is mine.
and ill probably never see her again.
but every time i close my eyes she’s there,
my lipstick smudged on her face,
her smile, her hot breath against my lips.
drunk giggles and clumsy hands.
and it’s perfect that way.