Cousin Sarah
By tgb
Cousin Sarah, Sweet sixteen years old Sits two feet from me, Hand, trembling on pale alabaster knee. How can this be wrong? I crank up the song “Bolero” Just like in the movie The one with Bo And some old dude It’s romantic Fantastic I lean to her To be with her For her For Cousin Sarah Cause she’s sick Time, for her It’ll pass real quick And she wants to die whole A woman and all Not a pure little virgin girl Never knowing love Never knowing original sin I can smell her close Her scent, her skin I feel her mouth With mine Her tongue On mine. How can this be wrong? We always played When we were young Best friends It’s all I have to give For her Cousin Sarah I raise my hand Upon her breast She grips my hair But doesn’t resist Is cancer contagious? Fuck it I love this girl With all of me With all that’s mine And if I have to die To make her beginning Start with a smile So be it Is that Mama? Shit She won’t get it I pull Sarah close And whisper You and me Always.Poor Cousin Sarah. I feel sorry for her. Written January 6th, 2002 © on Jan 06 2002 09:29 AM PST 0 • 8
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"Cousin Sarah,..."