barely connected
and running from her
own
true
self
I struggled daily
with
blind
dedication
to her h y p n o t i c a l l u r e
too often
I lay
paralyzed with lust
watching her quench
her unresolved issues
criminally titillating
utterly savage
sucked weak
I was
from the moment
our eyes first met
oh how seductive . . .
her tormented past
amazingly resembled that
of
my
very
own
troubled mother
who often spoke
to me hardly
but sometimes whispered
softy
In my ear . . .
I love to give
I love to give
I love to give up . . .