little brown eyes peek
behind white cotton sheets

she listens… muffled steps
steal lightly down the hall

she holds her breath
shivers in dark
searing heat
counts pink paper roses
climbing up the wall

One… two… three…four…

now he opens up the door

rough calloused hands
on her white soft hips
inside her tummy
belly button
rips

Five…

hurry Mommy!

Six…

roses are so pretty
growing on the vine

oh so pink
and pretty

seven…

eight…

nine..