The Things He Knew

You knew too much without being told. Knew Daddy left
and stepdad would lift me by the leg and beat me in front
of the neighbors. Knew I’d linger too long in your room,
gaze too hard at your things, the signs of your maleness
that haunted me, shaving razor, suit and tie hanging
in your closet, empty glass bottles of cologne. Your mouth
in the shape of a delicious O that I would trace with my
fingertips as you threw my legs over your shoulders
and pounded hard and deep into me. You knew what to say,
You’re my cum slut, you’re my dumpster, your holes are
mine to fill. Knew how to keep your eyes on the pretty girls
on the TV screen when you lubed up my tits with the lavender
oil from Walmart and fucked them dry and said if I hit
hit 120 again on the scale then we’d think of getting serious.
Knowing I would be helpless against your silent power over me,
you used it well to your advantage, and I did whatever
you asked. Knowing to make me taste my juices from your
fingers, make me taste myself from your dick, knowing
it would be the closest taste to loving and ensnaring you
I would ever get to know in this life of solitude without you,
without your breath in my mouth, your voice calling me back,
warning me to hurry my ass up and jump in the car
so you could whizz me off to your apartment, the only shelter
I ever wanted to call home.