When I was 17 I had my first kiss.
His lips were sweet and soft on mine
And I could feel the stars moving turning around me swirling pulling me apart into an ether cupped in the hands of my boy with eyes like the sun and the grass and the rich dark earth in my hands.
When I was 17 I had my first break-up. He didn't feel the same, he didn't love me
Not like he loved him
The boy of fire
the boy of light and warmth, the kind that will consume you if you get too close.
And my tears flash-froze my feelings
Drove my heart clawing up my throat
Screaming every lover's scream
Screaming the way children scream crying the way they cry when they realize they are growing growing growing toward a sun that will burn and consume them when they get too close.