The quaint house glows with
a warm hue. A mother and
daughter sit, quiet,
one hundred cards between them.
The house watches everything.

The night silences.
The girl sneaks to the garden.
A boy waits for her.
Their whispers hush and hands clasp.
The house watches everything.

They hide a secret,
their nights of private meetings.
They are unaware
of her mother’s rageful glares.
The house watches everything.

Another night, this
time no boy eagerly waits.
Tears mark the girl’s cheek.
Her mother’s touch heals her heart.
The house watches everything.

The mother faintly
smirks, knowing her daughter will
now only be hers.
One hundred cards between them,
the house watches everything.