Tangled RelationshipsHear me read this

My aunt drops kisses on my cousin’s head;
she sets her book aside as though his chatter
charmed her, gently tucks him into bed.
She always says that dirty clothes don’t matter
as long as he’s not hurt - he needn’t fear
she’ll spank him. My Mom says she’s got no spine
and spoils the boy, who’ll no doubt turn out queer;
but I’ve played ball with him and he seems fine.

In shorts, my aunt’s lean legs could be a girl’s.
I loitered by her door one day and spied
her singing as she lathered the tight curls
that wet my dreams. Yet, if my parents died
and she adopted me, I would be done
with thoughts like those, and glad to be her son.

Previously appeared in The Edge City Review




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