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Fulcrum Point

On visitation days, she visited her father’s house
It began each time in the same way
She denied his air of expectation,
sat on a couch and watched t.v. blankly
A certain amount of time would elapse whereby he could no longer contain
himself
At that point, it was no longer a matter of overcoming conscience
but just determining mode of approach
the way one might think in advance about how to pry open a chest full of
treasure.
Because greed and lust and power were the components, he used his arms
like crowbars to open her legs
as she continued to watch the television
She separated her body from her mind
Once he had accommodated himself, he was gentle in his movements,
the way a child might stroke and embrace a favorite rag doll
She lay lifeless and rubber like waiting for it to end

She never spoke to her mother about these occurrences
The visits after all, were made at the mother’s behest,
part of an indecipherable legal and emotional protocol that existed
in the worldh of adults


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