Daddy’s Game

I imagine you must’ve shut

yourself off somehow–the way

you’d eventually teach me to d0–

before you entered my room

like a king’s shadow.

I hear the scrape of your jeans

your hands hot and big like swings;

I’m young so I love you.  I do as you say.

You blow smoke in my face.

Now, here, I slip

because you taught me how to shut off–

how to die inside,

and I have only memories

of my body:

fear, arousal, panic and pain,

death around every corner

shh

girl

shh

I hid so well I lost me

in this confusion of a woman

trying to bud from

what’s already been picked.

(*published in Aqueous Mag, Haggard & Halloo, and Frigg Magazine)