First Time
They say that you always
remember your first.
Thin curved
Smooth to tongue
but not to touch.
I was in the school bathroom
My back stapled against the stall wall.
Lips tight unsure
the weight of sweat
suffocating the air
Panting breath
Snatching hands.
The first time I hit a blunt
I was in the eighth grade
skipping second period
with a boy who's grin
tore across his face
and split into a
crescent moon
of mischief.
He, would light the fire
prescribe the genesis
begin the habit of
huff and puff and
cough and laugh and
eat and eat and eat and eat.
This boy.
Sharp knuckled and slick talk
Taught me how to inhale
how to breathe deep and
calm when my body barked
and begged before finally
learning the art of swallowing
infernos and regurgitating ghosts.