I thought

I thought it was the man who touched me,

the tragic outcome of so many forgotten years.

I thought it was the paternal hate I harbored,

of the shadowy figure in love with his bottle.

I thought it was the longing to cuddle with my mother,

support and security never enough.

I thought it was the anger at myself,

inability to overcome my insecurities.

I thought I was just not used to him yet,

that comfort, desire, developed in time.

Then I looked, I touched, I smelled, I tasted, I heard something, someone.

I saw how her eyes shot warm milk into my heart.

I felt how her hips fit with mine,

how we can move like the smoke of her cigarette.

I still felt her heat radiating an arms length apart

I smelled her body, her neck, her back, her arms, her sweat and salt

I licked from the decadent sea of her life.

I listened to the sweet song of her breath,

deep rhythmic pulses.

Then I thought

I know, now.

Kaylyn Palella