FIRST KISS LIPS
I once knew a boy who’d stolen the lips off the first girl he’d ever kissed. Told me her name was Emily. Said she had lips like sliced Fuji apples and her taste was the same. He met her by the bleachers after fifth period and when they’d finished he asked if he could hold onto her lips for the night. Guess all she saw was promise in that boy’s eyes. She peeled them off like band-aids. That’s how easy it was. Emily never did see those lips again. Soon everyone in school was talking about it, the whole town even. The girl with no lips. Her parents moved her to some other school out of state. She was gone and no one said anything about her again. I asked the boy what he ended up doing with the girl’s lips and he said that he threw them in with the trash one day. Just like that. Never did think of returning them.
Some nights I get to thinking about finding that girl, Emily. I imagine her standing in front of me. The backdrop behind her gray like morning mist. I take her in my arms and she lets me lean in close and press my lips over the naked skin where her apple lips should be. I wonder what that might be like. To happen in real life. Would she feel my passion flooding in? Would she feel anything at all?
The Girl in the Black Sweater