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Click hereI haven't attempted any poetry since high school. These lines popped into my head, unbidden, at 4 in the morning. I wrote quickly so as not to lose the thoughts.
The verses should in no way be construed as implying or actually describing underage (under 18 years of age sex.
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Door opens at midnight
You slip under the blanket
Father musn't know
Moist breath warms my ear
Red scratches are on my back
I love you, mother
Shouting is over
I can't believe you chose me
An open door waits
Duvet thrown aside
My tongue finds your other lips
Happy Mother's Day
Vacant eyes, hands shake
Memories are faded mist
We once had one bed
Your writing, both this poem and your short stories/novellas, make me want to read an essay of yours, in particular, your fascination, like your readers, with mother-son love, and what brought it out in you and that which made you put pen to paper. Would like to hear your story. This is saying something, wanting o read someone's essay. Rare.
I have given up reading most of the “poems“ on Literotica because even when heartfelt, most of them are drivel. This one is different. I read it because this author can write.
This feels a little sad. Love that had to be hidden in the dark at first. Some joy in the middle, But the last lines feel like the closing of the day in reference to love. You know, also in 'Beyond the Borderline Book 2 you left me with a lot of sadness. You didn't expand on a wonderful life with Diedre. Most every line contained the sadness of how much you missed Mom. Did DeeDee lead a sad life of a memory? Does this Haiku speak of Simply Death or the Death of Love? What of Emily? Father cannot know? You write beautifully. Your attention to detail, both physical and emotional, is wonderful. Also your grammer and punctuation are pretty good. But all in all, it seems that you have a thing for sad or ambigous endings that do not wrap up the story or poetic events. It has been a good while since you posted a story and I wish you would secrete some more of your creative juices.