He's nothing like, not really. Shorter, skinnier, and, yeah, he's got his mother's eyes.
Not seen her for decades. This is me not crying about that by the way.
But I'd always know him if I could pick him out by touch, by smell, by bending him back until his spine goes crack-crack. Fuck, I wandered into rhyme. Sorry.
He makes the same whimper when he comes, he makes me come with that whimper, he makes me -
Wish I didn't have to hurt him just because I'm stronger now.
I'm not? Well, why does he let me then?
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