Some of the Things he Does Not Deserve

A Note to my Rapist

Greek olives in oil, fine wine, aged swiss, the respect of colleagues, the rapt attention of an audience, pressed crisp white shirts, good health, the miraculous reversal of time, a dog who greets him as he walks through the door, sympathy, spring seedlings, tulips in a glass vase, the benefit of the doubt, inebriation, runny eggs, steady rain on a slow Sunday afternoon, trips to the Farmer’s Market, warm blankets from the dryer, popcorn made on the stove, a great concert, fireworks, lush grass under bare feet, melting snowflakes on his cheek, rich bass notes from cherry wood speakers, tension in a fishing rod, the purr of a young cat, freshly squeezed orange juice, a good cry, the soft gift of my parted lips.