Sometimes I'll know her face
better than my own.

The gleam in her eyes against streetlamps,
starlight striking her dark wavy hair
like the oceans I speed by at night
already telling me the lifetime of wants
swimming and screaming through the blood.

And even though we live by our reputations,
skins rippling with needs beneath the armor,
I still glassed who she really was
even if she only gave me a moment to see,
it's too kinetic to ever pull away from.

And I never meant to break her heart,
she never meant to hurt me back,
all I remember nights later on was
thunder pounding the road
and my arms weren't around her.

Maybe I remind her of the pain
that she needs to leave behind.

But she'll never cry in front of me,
she'll never tell me that's
the worst thing she could do.

I always meant to find a way to say everything
but I was scared to lose something in the telling.

Like her hands clutching my hair
and in all that night heat in the backseat
she broke the crest of clumsy needful kisses,
asking for me to call her by her first name,
the name that no one else is permitted to speak,
I didn't know until then how a seemingly innocuous title
could invoke something so sacred to be held.

Like autumn's first chill pushing her body closer to mine
and I already wish I knew how to tell her
in this beautiful turbulent echochamber
I never knew what this was until it happened,
I finally began to know something
that we may be able to call love.

And I remember thunder on the road,
how she kept me inside far past the shuddering end,
what I remember most is what we didn't say,
like how when I burst and stars filled her eyes.

Our kiss broke and I could taste but not see
her tears and I'll never mention it,
the moment where she was bare in ways
that had nothing to do with parted thighs.

Maybe I reminded her of the pain
that she needs to leave behind.

Because we never meant to break hearts,
but I tasted hers on Thunder Road,
every secret and skin she's ever worn.

And she never knew until later on
or maybe she sensed it all along,
that she was my first.

I didn't need to be hers to know I belonged.

But she'll never say she cried on front of me,
she believes that's the worst thing she could do.

She'll never have to.

Sometimes I know her face better
than I've ever known my own.