Officially adopted at the age of 38
by the man married to my mother.
by the man married to my mother.
The man's mother and father
put me to work on their ranch
over the summer breaks
put me to work on their ranch
over the summer breaks
from school.
My mother was a strong woman,
I knew this
even though she worked in an office.
even though she worked in an office.
Until I turned thirteen
the man had never been afraid
the man had never been afraid
of losing control
of a woman.
I remember the fear in his eyes.
He slapped me across the face.
I laughed and the man's eyes changed,
forever.
forever.
When I mentioned this occasion
to the man's mother,
to the man's mother,
she slapped me too. It felt the same.
This must have been touching to them,
genetically.
genetically.
When she died,
her husband, the man's father
molested me before the funeral.
Still-I lie there-
Since we were not family,
the father died a happy man.
Instead of bears, I take secrets to bed.
My mother was not as strong as I thought.
Painting by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
