First Painful Love

It was a different time, but it's the same old story.

Trish was a dark-haired beauty 

eight years older than he  

pale skin, Italian features

dark eyes glowing with passion

a throaty Barritone sexy voice

ample breasts and wide hips.

she liked tight fitting sweaters, 

short black skirts. 

she didn’t like underwear.

neither did he.

he was dying of thirst.

she was sweet, intoxicating water.

She enjoyed all sex, anywhere.  

he learned fast, eager to please.

he was her boy toy.

Grocery store parking lot at noon.

Top step of the art gallery at midnight.

Enclosed parking garage.

Stone wall at the university.

Roof of her apartment building anytime.

front seat of his car.

The summer flew by... fast and hard. 

Trish’s roommate Sandy was a 

short crew cut blonde

with a single diamond earring,

a bicep tattoo of a male angel,

and small breasts.

he tended to fantasize about and 

fall in love with every female.

he didn’t understand 

when she was not friendly

until she joined them in bed.

he saw his first female/female passion.

he was the third wheel

At the end of summer

he left for college

suffering severe separation anxiety.

he had no other male or female friends.

he was a lonely libra.

head in books,

stretching intellect,

pouring facts into his brain,

longing for a touch,

longing for Trish,

her smile, body, appreciation.

six weeks into semester

he loaded a back pack and 

walked to the highway with 

thumb out on Fri. evening.

five hours and three rides later

in Kansas City walking the

last eight blocks with a

light, excited step,

up three flights of steps,

and ring the door bell,

heart pounding hard.

Shock and dismay when a man in 

undershirt opened the door!!

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

pause... he knew

“Trish!  Trish!”

her words rang in his ears

“Go away”

his eyes glazed as he stared 

at the closed door.

A cold night sitting in 

a doorway in the alley,

staring, sleeping, crying, 

sleeping, hurt.

he hitched back to school

devastated, 

hard to concentrate on studies.

hard to imagine blind trust.

he learned to open his heart

more cautiously.

the open wound 

did not heal for years.

Reviews

[Blackbirdsong]

Wow this is like reading a novel in a poem. There is so much here and it's sexy and painful and full of those awful life lessons we all have to learn. I can feel this young man's excitement and dejection because of this woman. I love the way you wrote this also. The short sentences that tell so much. This is really a great poem. Love it.

[Nick Erickson]

I liked the imagery - the raw, unbridled passion of first love / sex - either way you look at it.

The end - heartbreak and hurt is so true life.

An excellent piece, once again the mood and imagery perfectly captured in your words.

[TL Boehm]

there is something gritty, raw and painfully honest in this piece. I find myself deeply saddened for the guy...hard lessons we learn...
you are the epitome of a story teller.

[[untitled]]

Ed!!! I'm in shock!!! People screwing like rabbits anywhere that has a flat surface, you forgot the dining room table! This is very realistic and nostalgic, but I agree that nothing has changed really. They just take ecstacy to prolong the experience. As always a lot of thought went into this...nicely peppered style!!!
Cheers, *smiles*
Helen :-)))

[Robert Wilson]

he was dying of thirst.
she was sweet, intoxicating water.
(genius line!)

Excellent work, again. The ending made me tear up a bit :[