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Get Published on Female First
I say goodbye to the other Daddies and call you over.
You were on the playing field. The sunlight devouring
every orifice on your red polka dot dress. A mess
as you toddle over upon the smoldering grass.
The scent burns my nostrils. I like it and so do you.
Innocent rocks beam up at me. I swear they were pearls once
but who know’s? Who cares? Who dare’s to question how I love you?
I certainly don't. “Have you enjoyed your game?” I remind you.
“Did you play nicely with the other little boy?” Of course you did.
I watched you play. I’m so proud of you. I’ve taught you well.
Your smile is hiding and your cheeks bleed.
“I hope your not too tired” I say you say nothing.
“I want to play with you later”
At last, a smile crawls its way out of your mouth
though fluorescent lollipop dribble stains your pursed lips.
“Now let’s be getting home” My eyes obstruct yours.
“I’ll get you out of those clothes and into the bath.
Your hair could do with a wash too”
“No my dear. Not the hair on your head”
After all, there’s nothing to contaminate there.
You reek of his spoilt worth and your misplaced trust.
A cocktail that is sticky and wet.
Or maybe that’s just me?
James has poetry and literature a blog elopefromharm(at)wordpress(dot)com.