To fall in love for the first time with you
is no longer an option; maybe not
for the second or third time, or the last…

Our first time was slow, with great subtlety.
An intimate dance, desire drawn out
with words soft on tongue-tip, gentle kisses,
and a quickening of hidden passion.
The second and third time, it was lust
mingled with the bits and pieces of love.
Fire ignited those tentative flames
until we shed reluctance with our clothes,
found the bitter and the sweet that is us.

It’s no longer the first time and I know
there’s no option for a last time with you.