That was the time I sucked what I can’t see now.
The time all I said was a vow.
I would play with sticks and Chow.
That time was Childhood. I didn’t need a plough.
My buttocks kissed the sand
My lips pinched mucous
My pant queue, even in my anus
Days spent on the bed, and night in mum’s right hand.
When all I did was “good”.
When all they thought I wanted was food.
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