Your large hand,
balled up in a tight fist,
speeds toward my chest.
Blink and you'll miss it.
Straight through skin
muscle and soft tissue
to plunder my insides
and find the heart.
Tenderly retreat, prize in hand.
Only for the tenderness to disappear
and your strong fingers to crush
what you've stolen.
Still standing, I can only stare
into eyes that look like mine.
Knees buckle and meet carpet,
as daddy leaves the room, satisfied.
My poor heart.
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