Written for the Sunday Whirl:  Prompt words in the picture above

He made a pass at me
sharing his smokes.
Though I knew his reputation was a myriad of mysteries
when his sensual lips came nearer to mine
I could hear my mother’s mean reproach.
We both knew we had to hide
from the old crow’s stare.
When we strolled by the nun
he’d howl at her.
We’d hurry and disappear through the green door.
In our hideout, we’d lie down on the rolls of foam.
With the balmy weather outside mist would come in through the broken window.
I would never speak of this to anyone…
He ended up making it a game to search me with his tongue.


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