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Primum Amare
The gentle pressure of his hands on my waist.
The sudden heat as we stand there together.
My breathing gets shallow as he draws nearer.
My heart skips a beat as our lips connect.
There's a fire, a passion as we spend this moment alone.
Neither one of us daring to break away...
To breathe.
To let go of this moment we share
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Just a sort poem about my first love, but not my first kiss.