In my head, my first kiss was with the dark-haired girl with her soft eyes closed and her curls falling oer my shoulders. Her on my her hands on my face? Yes that's how it happened in my memory but really we were backstage, no, really we were in the heat of summer heat of battle, no, heat of hell the heat of love no really we were in the thick of it in the thin air of her bedroom, rolling over place-changing like the eager waters of the dark purple sea. Really we were running like horses through the dust under the heat of the stage lights in the sky and I had the wind biting at my heels but who could really tell what was love and what was a fucked up tendon at that point? Anyway really I waited for years and I was fighting but really just waiting all that time for her to run with me or fall over on me and froth over me like the waves and the wine and the rabid dogs of my her our souls. Soul. Really it was hubris or something like that but in my head it wasn't truly the sun that was the goal but just one kiss with the sun-kissed Apollo, my girl, she was my girl Apollo!
That crazy sunovabitch with wings, whatsisname?
Poem
