First Kiss.

Warmth.  Darkness.  Peace.  Thought begins to stir, sleepily.  Calm, thick floating calm.

Cold.  Sudden, shocking cold; harsh, unfamiliar light.  Eyes burn with crimson, with blood beneath closed eyelids.  A clutching at my chest, my heart, my lungs.  Something else that is new, strange, frightening.  My mouth opens and I breathe in.  Air, stale and sterilized, caresses my lips, tongue, lungs.  The sweetest air I've ever known.  Another first.  This is a moment of firsts.  

I breathe again, but breathing reminds me of my pain, my fear, my newness.  I wail.  I wail, large eyes screwed shut, tender skin still covered in warm blood.  Soothing sounds do little to calm the assaults on my eyes, my nose, my skin, so unready for life.  Soothing cloths, warm and wet, do little to protect me from the cold, cold world.  

I wail.  

The soothing voices and hands pass me to another, one who smells of blood and sweat and tears and joy.  One who smells of safety, of a peace I cannot comprehend.  The safe one coos softly, tiredly, sweetly, and wraps me in warmth, a solace from my new, cold life.  The safe one holds me close, firm but not tight, and a new warmth—new, but not frightening at all-- flits against my forehead, filling me with fire, and life, and love.  I quiet, eyes opening against the harsh brightness to look at this safe, warm, loving one, as she kisses my forehead again, lightly.  

"I love you, my Kimma'leh."