You grabbed my nose with your fingers,
the way adults tease children with the game.

But you were not playing games - were you?

You knew a hundred ways to inflict pain
without leaving bruises - with no visible
proof of your abuse.

There was the time you knuckle-knocked
me in the thigh - I could not walk for a week.

You did it because you loved me, you said,
to help me learn not to be so stupid and aggravating.

Sure would have been nice if you had not
loved me quite so much.