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The First Love is the Sweetest

Mike Fraley


The Chase is on.

Bitter air sears my lungs

as I run-


the Crunch of snow tires

warn of impending Doom

as the Cutlass looms


Pictures had been Burned or returned.

No Lessons Learned.

What is it about this brown-eyed girl,

with Curls?

I don’t see the snare,

cloaked in her Cashmere lair.

Wild musk prevails and Overwhelms

my senses.

Her Dark eyes look up at mine

“Just one more night,

Just one more night?”

I might.

Crying Baby on the floor

Fist through doors

I can’t take anymore.