Daddy

Daddy’s worth millions but he left you where he found you busting your ass working your second shift for the day in a restaurant off of some dirt road over in this rural town.

I’m not sure why you wish you were his and only his.

Maybe it’s the way he checks up on you.

Maybe it’s the way he keeps you from your friends.

Maybe it’s the way he keeps you at arms length and doesn’t give you what you want.

Doesn’t that just make you weak in the knees?

You say this man could change your life, if only.

You sound lonely.

Maybe someday Daddy will whisk you away to that factory town that the rest of the world rolls their windows up and holds their noses for and drives through as quickly as possible. Perhaps you can take a tour of the cannery together and learn everything there is to know about black beans.

And then what?

A quiet lifetime of whispering to faceless men a hundred miles away in their homes with their great big walk in closets in which they will neatly fold and put their sexuality away at night along with any scent or trace or memory of you before they kiss their wives goodnight?

Changing people’s lives doesn’t give you a lot to show for it other than changing people’s lives.

I wonder if Daddy ever thinks about the patterns in your irises when you’re not in his arms at night.


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