Sunday Scribblings: First Kiss

I haven't taken part in Sunday Scribblings in such a long time, but this one kept calling to me. I was torn between the first significant kiss and the first significant kisses. I went with the First Kiss.

First Kiss

What I expected?
Under the dim light of the plaza
leaning into the phone booth,
the dark cave of his mouth. I was swallowed
up like Jonah and the whale, hoping
to surface and survive.

We learned to adjust later.

One summer night at the sunken
gardens I opened my eyes
and he was staring
across the lawn.
I —an afterthought.

There was something appealing
about his mouth.

Ten thousand other kisses later
I remember the cold white vinyl
of his letterman jacket sleeves
and the beginning of something.

Once, I was a young girl
who had a first kiss.

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