I knew I was one of the many of your firsts.
The way you whispered into my ears
has said it all.
We may all be different,
yet, always the same.
A bruised soul
wandering to feel life again.
And you were so good
in giving me just that.
I knew I was one of the many of your firsts.
The hurried fumbling out of clothes,
The way your hand travelled from my neck,
my breasts, my tummy, and my thighs
said it all.
We may all be different,
yet, always the same.
Aching for hungry kisses,
panting for more caress.
I hope you knew
you were also the first
who tried to trace
the fine lines on my face,
the moles on my curves,
the tightness of my folds.
I hope you knew
That when I led you
to the divine,
I was praying
the whole time.