The Firsts that Still Burn

I thought I finished first—

until the sky ripped apart

rain like needles stormed every pore

that race I swear was cursed.

My first kiss tasted of panic,

dark behind the gym,

Eyes closed I guessed your mouth

and missed by half a lie.

First love, first lie, first cigarette,

first child, first sad regret—

still there– still flare

all lit from the same dwindling match.

I think a hundred years or more

the embers will still be burning

between the cell-bars of my ribs

inside each breathy bite

the flame is still a part of me

yet no blue ribbon ever earned

and all the burns have faded now

as ashes turn to memorize

flame's first flickering loss

until the race is won.