Dear Daughter Dear Daughter, He will eagerly drink you. lap you up like wine, then discard you, spit you, upon remembering his preference for red over white. He will caress, kiss your scars, forgetting that it was he that bore them. The skin that is my skin. How dare he touch you. His kisses are cigarette burns, Sticky, An itch that cannot be un-itched, dear girl. An imprint that you will romanticise. Foolish girl. There is nothing romantic About your blood vessels being torn. But oh, will you romanticise him. He will be your oxygen. That funny metaphor. How much you will need oxygen when You’re on the floor, Gasping for air Because he has left again. They always leave.
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Daniela
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