she always sings

I remember kissing you for the first time. Your lips were different from his, your breath was a little stale, and you tasted like chapstick for some reason, even though you didn't wear it. Your lips were large and soft and there was less spit involved. You smelled like sweat and Florida summer and the wood of your bedroom walls. I can't remember the music playing, but I remember how hard my heart was pounding.

It was so much softer, so much easier. And it was much less wet.