Regret

Mother's backseat leather cold sky permeating our embrace. Wherein love eyes her on me never fixed; so full her mind with clamor lucid had I that been replaced. But stupid in idolatry ignored I of fears to proven fruitful be; known what of to come with her will for others bending, would never have I touched her. Laughter they scream when my way looking proclaim me the fool that loved a whore.