Tags
erotic poetry, I'm jailbait, incest, mother fire, poem, puckered, seducing the younger generation, sonnet
For so long masturbating and sick drunk
was what I did. I might look like jailbait,
but my stink was just like how the damned stunk:
shame-faced and aroused. Once, when I was eight
and you ten, your mother undressed us, laid
us down belly to belly. “I’m swollen,
babies, drink up mama’s milk.” Her milkmaid
nipples dribbled as she stroked your hymen,
puckered my ass. — What’s a freak and bar fly
when you’re ten? Now I find that what I yearn
for I must drink to smother. Far better
to cum by myself than to be ruled by
chaos because part of me wants to burn
every time that I hear: “come in, mother.”
memories of my ghost sista 