My brain it does a funny thing, like a man will do, it blocks the bad thoughts. Its like they never happened, like other men never happened, like you�ve never been used, never been kissed, never feigned feelings to get it over with, well the list goes on. And these briefs stimulants in your brain make everything feel like things are never going to be the same again like the kissing and the dancing, and the random lights, and the beautiful hallucinations, like all of those things are never going to go away. I remember the first boy that made me feel that way as I can remember the last, but more importantly I can remember the first. I can remember wrestling around under blankets and watching the sun come up thru a door with small collection of stained glass keepsakes on every pane. I watched the sun come up more times in my mind wanting to be there wrapped in that blanket kissing the first boy I had ever kissed letting him touch me only where it felt right. At the time he was so far ahead of them all, he was angry, heated and passionate he has already been witness to himself and had secrets, things he didn�t say. He had these old eyes that I knew when I was thirteen would stay with him for the rest of his life. I can see him still that night and his head resting on a pillow, his eyes through his lids smooth almost calming them for the night. Years later during period of unrest and emotion grieving those same eyes that I wanted to stare back at mine in that young girl way I saw looking down staring drunken into a mug confused and I sat there knowing that the intensity was there, soggy but it was there. Those eyes, man, they killed you slowly if you had any femininity in you.

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