Something of a secretive nature,
clutching steadfast to a mother's grip.
A little lull in the space between fingers,
but that's all the space there will be.
A pillar for a creeper,
who's the giver? The receiver?
A lie needs a fault; a lover, both arms
as cause and result must collide.
The cause for your being, entirety,
entangled in the love of a wife.
Author notes
I miss my Mommy.
:[
'Went super early for rehearsal and so this happened. Surprisingly took longer than it usually does. Maybe it was the setting. Meh.
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