First Kiss


He was the fresh prince
And she the pretty debutante
They were on the wrong side of 16
It was prom night; he looked ravishing in a black tux
And a checkered bow, and she in a strawberry dress
Dripping in desire to his gravitating eyes
And the night ushered in a moment
Purely forensic, washed with sheer delirium.
The scalpel his lips were, came down like a guillotine
As the face took his own route, its own course
The headless body desensitized of life
As his face navigated turbulent waters
To come across on the other side
As driftwood.