The very first kiss. With anyone. Very easy to remember. Sometimes it is a gross exercise, specially when you’re barely 11. The dancing kisses with strangers, with a toasted brain can’t think straight. Park bench kiss, after staring at the toes popping out of her sandals. Lower East Side bar kisses, after drawing a map of Colombia on a napkin. Sometimes the first kiss is the last one, those bloody goodbye kisses. Horror movie kisses, you can’t tell what the hell happened at the end of the movie. The very first kiss. And the very last one. Not so easy to forget.