With your hair that smells of soap
Tangerine and something citrus-y
She wants him wrapping arms around
Her body, breathing in the sweat
And aftershave he stole from dad
She wants him on her even though
She doesn’t understand the gravity
She knows she’ll see those eyes that flash
In summer sun until her dying day.
One thing I really love to read – when it’s done well – is descriptions of teenage love. There’s something magical about that first love, when hormones are zinging around your body and you think that you’ll never feel more in love than you do right in that moment.
I know that sometimes these first love scenes can be a bit cheesey, which makes it even more special when it’s done well. The best descriptions are always in the summer and every sense is utilised so that you can almost remember those heady teenage days yourself.
I would never want to go back to those hormonal days, but every so often I find myself sitting on the sofa with my cat, and I can’t help but think it would be nice to have a bit of that excitement back.