Inaugural - Top Up Your Lips? Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Two tiny pimples,
imperceptible they were,
had just appeared,
and overnight.
The little shits.
Just what I needed
on that fateful day.
I'd just arrived at camp
and not unpacked.
To chat her up and down and sideways.

I could be clever in my conversations,
and witty; 'charming' was the term someone had blown
like Mozart strings into my ear.
I had succeeded
rather quickly with this bird.
Had wrapped her 'round my little fingers tightly.

Their class was leaving in the morning,
what disaster!
New tactics meant to emphasise impending doom.
If opportunities were lost in our lifetime...
so, yes, the promise was first asked then given.
The farewell be a kiss of large dimension.
It was agreed that nothing else would do.

The evening passed like heavy snails in mud.
My night was watching four or five alarmclocks.
And morning saw a much inflated ego
look in the mirror at two newly sprouted pimples.

The quickly commandeered locus delicti
was slightly shady storage for spare bedding.
The door was locked, we wasted not a second.
I think the reason was for her not any pimples,
but shyness to her young age's highest level.
And, as for me, courageous instigator:
'Twas pimples and excitement, maybe both.

Yes, I do know you're anxious to hear more.
The kiss had started with a clanging,
and clinking of our youthful teeth.
So urgent was the happy meeting.
But quickly settled into sweetness,
that could not have been properly described.
Then graduated on to
silent activation
of all the salivary glands
that were accountable,
and present,
and so readily available,
that lips and tongues and mouths
so lovingly,
yet childishly,
and amateurish intertwined,
were willing wetlands
drinking their own juices.

It was the wettest, softest
and most sloppy kiss
that all the world could have imagined.
But it was real
and it lasted.
It was so sweet
that one could feel
the tears were watching.

I'm sorry girl, I did forget your name.
But is it possible
that you remember?