the one who watched her walk to sixth grade from his front door, the gold bathrobe open, exposed
the one who slipped a tongue when no one was watching, just a goodnight kiss to his best friend’s daughter
the one who assumed flirt meant fuck, crushed her hard against a suddenly reclined seat
the one who figured the Big Mac and fries bought him sex, like a toy you get with a Happy Meal
the one who insisted on air conditioning in winter, who joked about cold nipples while pouring hot coffee in the breakroom
the one who called her girl in a room full of men, then ignored her while she led the meeting
the one who slammed her into a corner, left bruises as a reminder that dishes were to be done before he got home
the one who dined her, wined her, loved her, then left her alone, in the dark…and never came back
