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Kiss.

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my first kiss -
like peaches and dynamite.

you think there is only one way to being a certain way,
and then you bite your lip and realize
there's so much more.

the lie that spares the feeling;
and the purple tries so very hard.

anything is like a tulip.
not quite a rose, and strangely enough
sometimes beautiful.

equally distributed to all who inquire
something more than just
the thorns.

you'll ask yourself
"why?"
when you should promise instead to
"try."

saliva treats you right.
and the explosion doesn't come
till when you least expect it.
after all the sweet.

it crawls through what appears to be
the middle of the night
and creeps right in where
you feel everything in the first place.

there it BANGS.
sparks everywhere.
the taste of black powder
lingering.

it makes you ask what you want
when what you want is
already there.





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