William Reichard writes about desire and adolescence.
First Kiss
I see it on television when I watch, what I missed.
Or at the movies, that first adolescent kiss
filling the whole screen, the dual propulsion
of desire and fear. I search my memory,
trying to find where I fit in. Was I
the charming kid, the one everybody wanted?
Was I the loner in the corner, making my lists:
who dies, who lives? Or was I the somewhat
ordinary kid, brighter than some, quiet, shy,
seeming to have no interest in sex?
Adolescents can be so melodramatic.
If I’d known at thirteen that I wouldn’t be kissed
until I was twenty, I’d probably have done
something drastic. Seven years is equal then
to twenty or forty or eternity. The body and
the mind grow so fast. The need consumes,
the pounding in the brain. And we all keep
our hands so secretly busy.
***
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