A Bitter Taste
My father's caresses.
Once I yearned for some sign of love but
now I only look at him as
incapable.
I understand now, and I let go.
My mother's kisses.
I eagerly took them when
I was looking for love but
I took the dominance, too.
Now the kisses and the lack of caresses
leave me with a bitter taste.
I no longer want that kind of love.
I am my own
love.
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