He's nothing like, not really. Shorter, skinnier, and, yeah, he's got his mother's eyes.

I think.

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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3/1/05