I was twelve he was sixteen
his face and body were cute
as were mine 
I recognised it in him – in myself 
I was blind

The kiss spun me out 
I couldn’t wait to tell
my best friend – she laughed
hurt – my heart it fell

Years past
he befriended my brother
in a good natured way
we tore strips off each other

at the pub he was attacked
his skull smashed to the gutter
his body fell limp
without so much as a mutter

an ambulance came
paramedics rushed him away
his brain waves read zero
his mum pulled the plug the next day

I’d never worn a dress
it just wasn’t me at all
at the shop the only black dress
was a size and a half too small 

I was worried to look like a whore
in front of guests and the lord
smiling to myself i remembered
he liked a well revealed broad

The open casket was a poor choice
a spectacle in fact
his brain taken during autopsy
purple hate bit the top of his swollen head
ill never forget the sight seen

The burial was different
the lid closed the box lowered to fall
tears dropped like hail
sun stroke nearly collapsed us all 

I didn’t go to the wake
it was something i was willing to miss 
I went home and slept 
I dreamt of my first kiss.