Betrayal, by Patricia Clark

[doranwen.livejournal.com]

Found this poem online a few years back and saved it, ran across it recently on my hard drive, but apparently it's nowhere to be found online . . .


Betrayal
By Patricia Clark

For pencils, that's why he took off
his belt. Pencils I might have stolen.
Until I'd say so, this strap
laid against my flesh.

Across his knees, I studied
linoleum. When tears dripped down,
they gleamed against the kitchen dirt.
And a hardening, a peach pit
in my belly. Not believed!

My sisters smirked at me in bed.
I lay, wide-eyed, in the seamless dark.
From my gentle father, a hand
raised in anger. No comfort
from anyone else.

Now this space inside, admitting
no one. Rooms with light, high
windows. Already I was moving
my possessions in.