This poem was inspired by Marie Howe’s poem “Practicing” from What the Living Do,which is one of my favorite poetry books. I wrote the poem in 2009 for a Creative Writing course at UT, and I want to share it here on my blog because it’s one of my favorites and because it’s about the first time I kissed a girl 🙂

The first time I kissed a girl
followed a bottle of watered down vodka
and two Coronas sipped
clean in the dim light of Terry’s apartment,
I had to piss so I pranced
upstairs and when I was done your denim
eyes were there, waiting, your lips
the leader, my tongue
following, we kissed to show-
off, but not for the boys,
that would come later, we kissed
because you and your tiny piano hands
know me better than anyone, because
I am the only one who knows
about the time you stole
your mom’s vibrator, opening
yourself to the idea of pleasure, making room
for boys to come later, we kissed
because I’m the one who convinced
your mom to let you shave your legs
in 6th grade and because we both know
your waterbed sinks just the right amount
with two bodies, we kissed as we
laughed our way downstairs, pulling
Terry off the ripped couch, rooting
his hips to carpet, then we kissed again
kissed him, lips attacking his
unguarded skin, we invaded his chest, then
stomach, arms, beneath
legs, we kept going
until his eyes retreated
into his head and then stopped, stood up
to get another beer, leaving him eyes-
closed on the ground, thinking
This is what we can do.

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