By Benjamin Del Shreve

Our teeth bumped while we were kissing
our first time in Indiana.
A cool evening
I wiped the pain from your eyes
but left mine well alone
but I liked you more than I.

And now the scent of her
has long since gone
from the scarf that she wrapped
around your neck to warm you
on that chilly night
that you kissed, that you met
in Bruges.