By Joy Clyne
As the hands of unwanted authority
Took my tiny hands
That fit into his single hand
Being led to the slaughter
Of fine décor of my living room
I wondered at my fear
Of sleeping in the dark
I lived in a house converted
To headquarters for dad
Because it was too big for four people
But he was determined to have it
And I conquered every space
To find the best hiding place
But today I was the one being conquered
For a second I find the courage
To look into his eyes
It was normal and welcoming
As we made our way
To the place that echoed
Laughter for a 1000 miles
It was made silent by the resounding
Slaps that made my ears
Ring for a week
When I dared to plead for mercy
From his carnal ways
I could be his daughter or little sister
I wondered as I gazed at the
White ceiling shaped like little boxes
Imagining a better world of peace
But I crash landed back to earth
By every brute force
And my core shaking like an earthquake
“Don't move” he said
As he made himself decent
To my immobile body
That did not need his command