Francis Santaquilani

Dinner with the Daddy

He ordered
A rare steak for her anyway.
She plays with her steakknife and fork,
Then crushes the croutons
In her salad to break up the silence
As they await their steaks.

After the steaks have arrived
Her eyes never rise from the meat
To meet his eyes.

Anticipating the blood
She gingerly stabs the meat
And slowly cuts it.
She pokes at the slices
And senses his
Coal black eyes burning to see
The pink meat touch her lips.

She feels the breeze
From the motion of his arm
As he reaches for the slice of bread
He'll use to soak up the bloody juice.

As she twirls her steakknife
It catches the dim light
And she twists inside
Dying to take it and scrape all trace of him

From her marrow.

Submitted: Sunday, March 18, 2007
Edited: Friday, February 04, 2011

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