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Perfect Sin

No angel
will speak of what we did
and what it was:
a perfect sin.
A perfect time
to be close again,
I was still a child
in your embrace;
tongue's wet texture,
perfect moment,
perfect place.
Your mother
should have known
the perverted thoughts that filled your head.
Not her "precious middle son,"
yet it was me in your hot bed.
Easy lay, easy prey-
I was born by your sister;
the same blood flowed within
as we shared a best kept secret,
something sacred between kin
and no angel
will speak of
what we did.
I played with matches too
as a kid.

17 Feb 07

Rated 8 (8) by 4 users.
Active (4): 6, 8, 8, 9
Inactive (0):

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wow, intense. 8/10. nicely done.
 — Unbelievable

You did an excellent job conveying your points throughout the poem, while leaving a necessary amount of ambiguity to keep it mysterious and intriguing.

very good.
 — wanderlusted

Thanks "Unbelievable" and "wanderlusted."  Yeah...DEFINITELY one of my personal favorites despite the very dark tones.  
 — starr

That's lovely.
 — shallee

Thanks, "shallee!"  :-)
 — starr

What in the name of William H. Macy was your mother's maiden name? 6/10
 — Henry