This poem was written by Warrior, Jill! from Whangarei, New Zealand. She is a teacher in Surat Thani. It Ain’t You Babe
Seriously I don’t have a title. His rheumy eyes lust you misread He sees himself. He reaches for his bright, clean, innocent promise gone now his future yours. That is his lust. Confused by your nascent sexuality. Top of Form
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