We used to sit beside each other,
skin kissing skin,
and you reading the paper,
and me lost in the fascination
of pulling the black hairs on your
ghostly legs.
And how brave you were to
sit there, quietly, enduring
my devilish ways.
You were my hero.
And when the bad man touched me
you calmed his touch
with a walk in the park,
and cotton candy
that sweetened more
my dreams
of being young,
of growing up,
of becoming a beautiful woman,
of never being afraid of who I am.
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