Share it Please
The first of kisses: guarded, but long-sought.
The approach--desire--the spark is in his eye.
Secluded in a basement, dark and fraught
With tension thick between a girl and guy.
He grabs my face with force; he does not ask
If I am ready. No, he pushes hard.
First lips, then teeth, then tongue--he has a task
The last naivete I have is marred.
He pulls away and grins with boyish pride;
Upstairs he runs, then drives into the night.
Alone, I blush, then face my mom inside
Where she reveals the truth with great delight.
Oh how I rued the days that we had dated
When mom revealed that we two were related!
Isn't that awful? I figure that an experience as traumatizing as finding out that your first kiss is a semi-close cousin is something that needs to be documented. I'm not quite sure if the last couple lines are the correct way to end a sonnet--any tips?