I remember the first time you took my hand,

it was a sunny afternoon in a small city park;

we stood up and yours just slipped into mine –

behaving like it was the most natural thing.

 

I remember the first time my fingertips run down your back,

following the architecture of your muscles;

I closed my eyes and traced your tattoo –

trying to imprint your skin into my mind.

 

I remember the first time I felt that energy flowing,

it was late night or early morning, and we were crashing bars;

you disclosed your desires to me –

saying I would have probably needed to know.

 

I remember the first time I was afraid to lose you,

days were too much, and you needed space;

I searched your profile and smelled you in crowds –

waiting for the world to stop spinning.