You asked if I remembered...

(Second poem)

You ask me if I remember that night

But I don’t.

Not exactly.

I remember the door

Hoping it was my mother

His huge body darting inside

My skin prickling

Backing away, getting water

a hidden kitchen knife

Just in case

Us talking

He asked if I’d found my mother

I wish and no, I told him

I hadn’t seen any other men

Twitching, dilated eyes

Angry, flushed

I phone Natalie.

He can’t hurt me

Or rape me

with her listening

Right?

He’d wanted to before

I don’t test it.

Please come get us.

My friend’s husband’s a shield

Baby sister in my arms

I saw my stepfather

Through the car window

Leaning on the doorframe

Outnumbered

Surprisingly complacent

He could wait there,

All night.

Talking to the voice of God

In his head.