First (second draft)

This is a second draft of a poem that was originally in a sequence.

First



In the hot tub everyone was nearly naked, my skin
screaming pink from the steam, heat. The snow just starting
to fall so we threw each other
in and out of the bubbling water, yelling
from the shock of cold—
hot, then cold. White flakes dusted her black hair,
in every part of its braid,
in her long long lashes.

They dared us to kiss. They chanted, fists splashing
to the rhythm—Do it, do it, do it. Wincing,
my white fingers on her brown neck I slid my tongue
into her vacant mouth.
She wouldn't close her eyes—she stiffened.

I'm sorry. We toweled off,
silent except for the laughter in the next room
and the cotton dragging against her skin and water
drying. Her braid trailed her turned face
reminded me of a dash in a sentence.

Her mouth moved on its own this time,
but I only heard, First.