i think to be unloved is to be damned. 

for a while i thought myself damned.

can you really be damned at 16?

i gave him two cigarettes this time, 

and offered another two. 

he smoked them till the tips of his fingers burned, 

i wanted to place them on my lips.

suck them, kiss them, cool them.

i sat across from him, nursing one drink, careful with my teeth and my brow.

he was so quiet that i couldnt help but need to learn more.

i asked and asked and asked for tidbits.

he gave them.

then we walked, slowly to savour.

each footstep home felt like the end so i made sure to stop in.

we stood side by side waiting for my number to be called, 

but also waiting to ask if we could see each other again.

i did, and we will and i smile imagining it.

under a glass roof and a chilling wind he kissed me,

i was warm my entire bus ride home. 

one time, long and careful

two times, stronger and short,

three times, hungry and fast.

when i kissed him i felt held, and i felt it in my stomach.

the pulsing, an ache.

i get it now, 

to think ive cried in fear over a kiss.

we broke apart and i stared at him through my eyelashes, 

i was trying to be coy. 

then i called out a farewell, and i walked away, and i didnt turn around because i couldnt stop smiling and laughing.