Cycles

Cycles by Michael R. Burch I see his eyes caress my daughter's breasts through her thin cotton dress, and how an indiscreet strap of her white bra holds his bald fingers in fumbling mammalian awe... And I remember long cycles into the bruised dusk of a distant park, hot blushes, wild, disembodied rushes of blood, portentous intrusions of lips, tongues and fingers... and now in him the memory of me lingers like something thought rancid, proved rotten. I see Another again?hard, staring, and silent? though long-ago forgotten... And I remember conjectures of panty lines, brief flashes of white down bleacher stairs, coarse patches of hair glimpsed in bathroom mirrors, all the odd, questioning stares... Yes, I remember it all now, and I shoo them away, willing them not to play too long or too hard in the back yard? with a long, ineffectual stare that years from now, he may suddenly remember. Keywords/Tags: youth, puberty, teen, teenage, teenagers, teen love, sex, sexy, lust, desire, date, father, daughter, chastity, virginity, abstinence, hormones