not a match

she had a crazy way
of kissing.
her tongue was not
unlike that of
a pond frog chasing
flies. a darting sharp
pointed thing,
that flicked awkwardly
into your mouth.
what exactly are you
doing, you
asked her the first
time you sat in the back
seat of your car
at the drive in.
i'm kissing you, she
said.
what are you doing.
kissing you back.
well, you need some
lessons, and by the way
my lips are getting
all scratched up
from your mustache.
can you shave it the next
time?