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What's that magical thing about firsts?
You know, the first time your hand brushes his 'accidentally'
Yet no one retracts
You kind of just leave it there
To see who's going to do the next move
And then of course
The anxiety you get wondering
'what's he thinking? do I look ok?
Is there something in my teeth? ah what's he saying?
Gosh he's cute…
Well this particular first was not exactly that and yet it was...
She walked in with zero intentions of romance
Just seeking good conversation with a new friend
They talked about a sport she barely knew
Aside from the fact
That whenever the word 'goool' was said out loud
A shot was taken
So she stayed, not for the shots, but for the thoughts
The ones shared with with the stranger
The ones shared with a friend
She looked not at the time,
Not because it didn't exist
But because she felt it as a passing element
One that encumbers you, so that you know it's there
But says not a word, just listening and observing…
She looked at him,
At the way his hand curved around the glass he held
Nursing a beer with way too much foam
She looked at the way he pointed
To the ceiling speakers as he looked at her
And sang along to the song played
It was nice, she liked it…
He stayed close and he removed her cloak
Yes, her cloak, because a shell is just too hard
And it's something you have to break out of
But he, he gently removed it from her shoulders
Making sure she felt comfortable with his closeness
Nigh was he too much, nor too little
He knew exactly when to lean in
And hold her
And she let him
She found herself enjoying the comfort
Of a person that was once a stranger
She looked into his eyes
And she just was
She was herself without a pang of guilt
Or an apology for any of her faults
For that what she lacked
Or that what she had
And he took her in that way
It was the first time for her
No critiques, no judgements
It just was…
-Bionica
