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for the first man

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The first time we were introduced, he said the birthmarks on my left hip

were sexy & my hands were something a palm reader would fall

head over heels in love with. We went jellyfishing in Virginia

on the beach and when they stung his foot I licked the venom

out of the wound and kept it in a glass vial as a prize,

a token of my affection. We left pickup lines for one another

on the fridge with magnets, and he always tried to outdo mine

because he took a poetry course in college

before he transferred to a tiny school in Utah

and thought that made him some kind of writer. When we kissed

for the first time, I felt the sun come up

in my mouth and the next kiss chased it down like a thunderstorm;

he told me my body was a pothole full of rain

and he stumbled over it every time, & even car crash dummies

would be jealous of how sweet we collided with one another.

Two days before we parted, he read the pads of my thumbs

and decided every one was a lifeline leading back to the ocean,

again and again.


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