She didn’t panic.
Maybe this time she wouldn’t mind, even though
she didn’t know how to breathe
with him crushing her.
At 5, there’s more mystery
than comprehension. But she’d watched
heavy, unwieldy words slide
into meaning beneath their pictures.
One day this story would make sense too.
At 5, she didn’t know
exactly how and where Dad entered
Her half-formed ideas went wordless.
No one understood when she’d asked
why she only saw this room, this bed
when there were so many other houses,
other people, other beds.
Why did her eyes see
only one film instead of them all?
She stopped asking things like that,
but she still liked to imagine
the other houses, other children, other Dads.