Little transgressor, heart on your sleeve
Out here begging for scraps--
A smile, a touch, an exchange--
Bound to your lesser emotions, I see you
And the slavish way you cower
When the wind howls too loud.
Down here the air turns sharp
Around brick corners, and the dark concrete
Where you lay your bright head
Becomes more weapon than support.
Is this why you turned out?
Their hands can only take; their teeth
Can only tear. And you with
Your small-child eyes, your too-wide mouth
Will be easy fodder for their daydreams.
Someday, sweet one, you will lose your sugar
And forget you were ever anything else.