The youngest of two
and twice as gorgeous as her sister,
she was the first time
I ever had breakfast for dinner.
Lets kick it and watch a movie;
my favorite phrase of those days
because it always meant:
let's see what happens when we're alone tonight.
An empty bottle of stolen wine
put her mouth all over mine
and our mouths carried on
into southern constellations.
"I can be your superman"
played on repeat while we shuffled
under a pointless Browns sheet
on the basement love-seat.
With the lights out, her body was a shadow
on mine strobing to the silent scenes
of Rat Race in the background.
Every movement felt like a steampunk dream
of intensity because we were reckless teens
with one square to share
after we made a messy story
worth telling every one of our friends
at school the next day.