Before I learnt love could be fed safely
I have had to lick it off the edge of a knife,
and fed off the broken bottles,
chattered in the kitchen,
after a retrieving staggering steps of a man
a stranger once my father.

Before I knew love could be simple,
I had worked my sweat to earn empathy
from the stranger, whose tired eyes never saw good in me but the flaws I carry in my name, a...