The Hand Familial Poem by James McLain

That hand so familial belongs to my mom, but it is
caressing my bare chest, in my fake sleep.
Through the cotton brassiere it was next,
climbing each of my two small steps.
No time, too grow each, 'rose' up and out.
Next he touches the chest, which he exposes by
soft words and placing that hand in the brassiere.
Then he is off and on, distant looking, my dad and whispering
and pushes my brassiere above and it covers my eyes.
Cold and warm 'My' why it betrays me, my nipples are.
No time, too them do i listen, twin pencils, standing.
Then he saw in my chest a rising and falling irregularly,
and touched it to that warm mouth, happy and full.
The next logical step, my girl friends at school, 'said';
was because of that, it will next release me.
Then on me and my brassiere, creamy.
Was imaged of 'Mary' obtained? Routine.
To be forever slow, progressive each factory modification.
It did not hurry at all, working, working, hard working.
Threat it is not, too near coercion.
Ditch diggers.
Exactly, every day after boring days, predictable routine.
Between everyday of the week, the edge of night.
Every night waiting for mom to get done.
As for all and my chance with him it can obtain just of me.
I turned twelve and then thirteen.
The routine like the thing where you eat, i left to the school,
sleeps, comes and comes and sleeps.
That attempt places that hand under my panties next,
it then came. I backed up to each next, him, it resisted.
Many times, to, finally, before the way it opened,
between my panties, I exactly didn't resists.
because of hopeful songs, birds sing orally.
As for him, I resisted over and over each time never,
but that attitude of my one and when it's changing,
did not call at all.
He ignores me, being not related from up north.
my only chance with him, I would rather.
I trusted and told him, even showed him all.
The glance which does not have me all.
The smile which does not have me all.
The smell though of peaches, he can't resist.
Thank 'God' for those reality shows,
swaping wives, back and forth asleep.
Behavior the way I didn't, there it is.
I was not loved, but was never hated
and at the house which is deeply felt,
meant that smile everything to me/mine\my.
He in me, as necessity loved my mother through me.
Therefore I stopped the fact that it resists.
For the first time and it touched that blue hand
and the thing my panties,
which it slid above and below exactly.
This happened many times.
Then one day;
I did not have with me my pajamas and the panties are on.
Therefore when he was putting in the open coin slot,
and him, moving softly around of my panties,
to my my naked skin which is touched, when i fake my sleep.
Blinding lights as the dots rush around, inside of my head.
So I wait by the phone, alone as I have been, always waiting
wishing the phone would ring, like it was, when I was young.