I remember a night
we picked up party food.
Prepping in your friend’s kitchen,
we were bantering, and suddenly
you told me to kiss you.
I thought you were kidding because
I believed all the times you
told me you weren’t ready for something real.
Weren’t serious. Didn’t feel.
And our hands were full
of chips, limes, salsa ingredients.
So what I gave was the briefest.
But what I really wanted
was drop the avocados
press you up against the fridge
and kiss you so fervently
you'd need to change your jockstrap
every time you think about guacamole.
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