counting coup


flying high above

as your body lies, pinned

by a man who brings candies

and calls you his favourite niece

on that single sized bed with a star blanket

dreams are bridges



there are some things you forget

and things you remember

like the obsession with counting

how many tiles are on the ceiling

how many stitches on a quilt

how many seconds in the dark



a screen door creeps open

a brown girl in a flower dress

slides against the wall

always keeps her backside hidden, safe


she peeks around the corner then runs at top speed

she tackles him, he flies backwards and lays there

his head oddly-angled on a cinder block door stop

his blood shot eyes rolled up inside a twisted head

candies spill from a brown bag on the dry earth


 she picks up one of the candies, unwraps it

and pops it into her mouth, smiling,

she finds the skip in her step

and never looks back


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