not to cry. Let her streak
her black mascara until she’s lines
as a zebra. Let her nose gets stuffed as
a Christmas stocking. Let her voice
be raspy as an alligator’s when its head emerges
from the water.

Don’t tell her
not to hurt. To get over it. Let her
stay in her pajamas. Let her snuggle up
under the covers with a quart
of ice-cream. Let her greasy hair hang limp
as an old man’s ****

Don’t tell her
some cliché’ or how others have it
worse. If you’re going to tell her something –
tell her that you love her.
That’s all she needs to hear.