late. I didn't think there would be another
girl for me to talk with, as I was putting on my
coat, turning off the light. Soft touch or not,
you know how hard it is for me to say no
when someone asks to speak with me and it is
their eyes that say first what they have
to say. I've read all the numbers that make me
sick about men who never learned to take
no for an answer and turn themselves into a cruel
statistic, turning a girl, most often
a friend, into another word, through no
choice of hers, she now must call herself.
I don't want to think of you this way,
especially today as you turn six, but having
just told another student it's not her fault,
I must find the words no father can give you
to use some night when there are only miles
between us. Words, I hope, your date's father
has taught his son to hear, even if there were nights
he was late getting home, with nothing in his hands.
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