Not My First Kiss

I can’t remember my first kiss, not really. Like the actual first kiss ever, that moment in time when my lips first touched a girl’s. I kind of remember the general scenario, but for some reason that kiss has kind if faded from my memory. However, I do remember a very specific kiss from later that same day with astonishing clarity.
I had walked my girlfriend home after spending all afternoon and evening in my room after we had come to the mutual decision that we were in fact boyfriend and girlfriend now. It was the slowest walk in history as we both kind of wanted to just stay in this wonderful, new, exciting place we had found, holding hands, feet taking these baby steps, because the road was icy, she was much shorter than I was and because we didn’t want to get to the end where we knew the goodbye would have to be, even though we would be seeing each other first thing in the morning at school.
When we did at last reach her house we stopped under the street lamp just in front, in this perfect cone of yellow light. It was snowing lightly and outside of this pool of light it was pitch black all around and it kind of looked like we were all alone in this circle of pavement with white flakes gently swirling through it. I remember putting my arms around her waist, the sound my wool overcoat made against the soft, shiny fabric of her black coat that came down just to her knees. Her arms went around me, starting at my waist but then moving up around my neck, clasped lightly. I was looking down at her and she was looking up at me and we moved together at the same time and her lips were the best things I had ever tasted and I could feel the cold tip of her nose pressed against my cheek and everything was warm and there was no more time at all, it just ceased to exist so that I’m pretty sure there are still two kids kissing forever right there in their own private universe. Then there was a gentle wrenching and we moved apart, then kissed again, then apart, then another kiss, mumbling goodnights until we just couldn’t put it off any longer and she started up her driveway, turning back every few steps and I just watched her all the way up until she disappeared behind her doorway and I swear in that entire journey our eyes never left each others faces.
I know it’s really cliche but I can’t remember the walk home, not the time or distance travelled but rather just this blur of joy and new love and longing and yearning and slight wistful melancholy all at once plus about a million other madly rioting emotions I couldn’t untangle even if I wanted to. I kept pressing my finger tips lightly to my lips, like I was trying to keep that kiss on them and I swear I could still feel her, this tiny phantom girl with her arms around my neck walking in front of me the whole way home. It was the middle of winter but I didn’t feel it at all, I could have been walking bare ass naked through the snow and not given one damn. I got home and just climbed in bed, the smell of her all over my clothes, falling asleep almost as completely spent as if I’d just actually made love.
I’m sure that nostalgia and time have burnished this memory with their peculiar patina and that it may not have truly been that magical, but that is how this moment will always exist in my mind. To this day I can close my eyes at any given moment and I am there, under that street lamp in the snow as if I never moved even one inch. I guess that may be why I can’t actually remember that real very first kiss. This one holds all the others in its shadow.

One Response to “Not My First Kiss”

  1. uncle R. and the MONSTER pike! Says:

    Take a copy of the mirror entry, stick it on the wall with the comment Never Again

    This current entry exemplifies one of the things you ARE; an artist who, for better or worse, chooses to offer up bits of life filtered through a personal context.

    You hang it out for display using this medium. It’s like whistling in a hurricane but you’ve been doing it now for quite a while – let the chips fall where they may.

    Should you seek a wider audience or broader acceptance, communicate on more channels! Older people might like books/paper while younger folks like e-stuff and/or spoken word within a u_tooB framework.

    Face it, people don’t know what they don’t know until someone suggests a new or alternative way.

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