A Confession.

My teenage altar of sinful acts

consumed, drunk, dealt, denied;

Late at night the memories penetrate the dark...

Turn my pillow over so it's colder from the bottle.

A faerie's temple, a boudoir for a princess

(or a mistress),

the right and wrong man's holy space, 

a sinner's hiding place...

Get down on your knees,

Light a candle,

Pray for Daddy's little angel.

The End

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