First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 217

GIRL CHILD - Tom Philo Baba
She would shed the pleasant calories of her beautiful frame to augment the obese
widths of his bloated ego.
Daily she would drink his dripping, empty words as a drunk gulps a fine wine.
She never queried his intent,
She just loved the way he stared at her hips and other soul strewn contents.
She was little, awed and daring,
All she needed was someone caring,
His love was just a fish love.
Eat and clean mouth.
And then the tale of the salacious fish he chorused with a bad mouth.
She soaked herself in the detergent of his words.
All his adulations about her morphological aesthetics and fidelity were a great
wash.
She loves his pain branded fire.
At least, this is somewhat familiar.
Better is a known devil than an unknown angel.
She taught herself to die for him.
She taught herself to be low and for his happiness, tones her skin.
His smiles were her joy,
But all his sweet crusted words were coy.
Her hands akimbo, she paused to think
Love indeed for a girl child must be tough and sick.
She isn’t going to cry methinks, until avalanche of tears crawled out of her lids in
mass so thick.
Tom Philo Baba
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