The Ache

A fatherless child will do almost

anything to receive approval

from the world.

A nod

or really

any sign of recognition

would cause me to put my own life in danger.

Once

I let my sister lift me

on top of both of her extended feet

in the middle of the dark

of our shared pink and white bedroom.

She mimicked a rickety resemblance of Superman

her legs locked at the knee

and me, dangling in the air

both her hands holding tight my wrists.

I lie back on the soles of her feet

let her kick me up into the night’s jawline.

I landed hard against a plank

splintered against the edge

of our new and exposed steel bed frame.

My forearm split itself into a welcome flood

blood spilling like a song

and I swore I could hear my father sing.