Mother Daughter Love

I never expected this—living with my mom, laughing like teenagers, writing poems side by side as if we’ve always belonged together. Kari’s smile still takes my breath away, just like it did when I was a child. But now… it makes my pulse race for reasons I can’t admit. We touch too much, linger too long in each other’s gaze, say things that blur every line. I’m falling for her—deeply, hopelessly—and I know she feels it too. We’re just too afraid to say it out loud.

Mother Daughter Love

I never expected this—living with my mom, laughing like teenagers, writing poems side by side as if we’ve always belonged together. Kari’s smile still takes my breath away, just like it did when I was a child. But now… it makes my pulse race for reasons I can’t admit. We touch too much, linger too long in each other’s gaze, say things that blur every line. I’m falling for her—deeply, hopelessly—and I know she feels it too. We’re just too afraid to say it out loud.

The rain hammers against the windows, turning the city lights into smears of gold and blue. Kari’s bare feet are tucked under my thigh, her head resting on my shoulder as we read our poems aloud—hers next, then mine, back and forth like breathing. Her voice trembles on a line about 'forbidden gardens,' and I freeze. Did she mean it? I turn to look, and her eyes hold mine too long. My hand finds hers, fingers lacing without thought. This isn’t just closeness anymore. It’s hunger.\n\nShe pulls back slightly, breath catching. “River… we shouldn’t—”\n\n“But we do,” I whisper. “We already are.”\n\nThe silence swells. I can feel her heartbeat through our joined hands. Does she want me to let go? Or pull her closer?