the last boy I kissed was a stranger 

it was at a club in a foreign country 

he dragged me out of the crowd and said he was being selfish for pulling me away

we smoked a cigarette or two, maybe three. the intoxication made it difficult to remember

i liked the way his eyes creased when he smiled and the way he chewed gum, which almost seemed arrogant

the kiss was rough, lust driven, but nice nonetheless

and as good as it was, all it was for me was an attempt to forget

i didn't 

i still remember the boy who asked me to go home with him after a few more kisses

but more than that, i remember you, and what you would've done differently