and he never gasp, only smile

as I planted it, it never reaches

my eyes, like I pretended I never eaten the peaches

or is it, peaches? Never had I thought much vile.

Reel treats, of knife struck on the table

He never meant to scare me so,

methinks he’s only scared of losing, so,

a stealth might do the trick trickable.



Me? Middle of the three daughters

of with mind different with the Saturn

he never told me, He hates me



but he loves me so, and I love him:

so he struck the table with the sharp.



I pretended I never ate the peaches.


Photo courtesy of bethrooneyphotography.com

19th of June 2012

©2012 J.B.T.


7 thoughts on “I Kissed My Father’s Forehead

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