Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Father Figure

falling in love with you was
as painful as the first hit from
my father

open palmed instructions
"don't talk while grown folks is speaking"

today, i speed through syllables
thrashing his remains away from my center:
the stolen earrings he gave me for Christmas,
the first time i met his only wife,
the lone letter that my step-sister still carries
like lead poisoning beneath her skin
sit like arsenic lined chocolates on my pillow

i know
this is what makes it hard for you to love me
how my fist carry the weight of yesterday
the jealous streak that plays dodge ball with common sense

you lean in,
close my mouth with your hand;
a friendly pressure with salt felt fingertips
whispering an offering for my tongue to flicker against,
as i wither and fold myself into an orgasm

no one told me it would hurt like hell
this daughter of a man whose blood burns
for women outside of steel cages
my knuckle heavy grin grows for a man with
your sorrow
when infidelity smells like home
like peaches and other women’s panties
like abduction and shot gun shells
like broken baseball bats and a woman harboring a broken heart
and a stolen child for a man that will never love her back

don’t be surprised when I ask you to repeat yourself
I prefer to wander the perimeters with cheeks shielded by tears

I no longer talk to my father
Avoid any man with his dimensions

Even though,
I can’t help the indignant pause
That rip through my teeth when someone speaks
out of turn.

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