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Side 203
So I could kiss you . " " You want to ? " " Yeah . Is it all right if I do ? " " I reckon . " So I kissed her , but she kept her mouth closed and her lips were too tight . I wished her hands were not so slim .
So I could kiss you . " " You want to ? " " Yeah . Is it all right if I do ? " " I reckon . " So I kissed her , but she kept her mouth closed and her lips were too tight . I wished her hands were not so slim .
Side 204
I saw us going up into the mountains on our bicycles in the early autumn , that first time she let me kiss her . I kissed Zara Jane and I never tasted anything sweeter , except that her breath had a smell of sour blowgum , like a damn ...
I saw us going up into the mountains on our bicycles in the early autumn , that first time she let me kiss her . I kissed Zara Jane and I never tasted anything sweeter , except that her breath had a smell of sour blowgum , like a damn ...
Side
Oh ? " " Yes , oh , " Gordon said quickly , taking hold of her shoulders and kissing her . Augusta did not respond immediately , but after a few seconds her arms went around Gordon's neck and the kiss became a cooperative venture .
Oh ? " " Yes , oh , " Gordon said quickly , taking hold of her shoulders and kissing her . Augusta did not respond immediately , but after a few seconds her arms went around Gordon's neck and the kiss became a cooperative venture .
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Prose | 3 |
RICHARD BENTLEY Hal | 13 |
PETER PARSONS The Groin Clawing Itch | 30 |
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Anne arms asked birds body called comes course dark death don't door eyes face feel feet felt friends girl give glass GLORIA going Gordon green hair hand Haven head hold it's Jane John kiss knew lady laughed leaves letter light lips Literary Magazine LITTLE GIRL living looked mean mind Miss moon Mother mouth moved never night once paintings past play poems poet poetry published rain remember seemed smile sound stand steps stone stopped Street summer sure SYBIL talk tell things thought told trees turned voice waiting walked wall wallabies watch Willie wind window wonder writing Yale Literary Magazine York young