(Do not allow yourself to be parenthesized
The print of your baby finger spills over the edges
Of those brackets.
You should never be an afterthought,
A clause he can delete.
Your hands fill paragraphs
The life lines and love lines
Stitch together the pages of the book
That is your body.
Stutter trapped between your lips
When you try to say his name
Builds the steps
In the library that is your soul
The blush of your cheeks fills windows with light
And you should never let him tell you otherwise.)