An Angel Meeting Me

and may be we will almost fall in love... I will look into his eyes, and he into mine— my one single eye, (the unfortunate other blinded by a disciplinizing slap) and we will agree, adjust that Love can be Blind. And he, healthy boy well-fed, white with his rosy cheeks, will wonder about me, pity my bony body, those thin ribs and worry and feel my twisted ears and the scars on my hands, (reminders of the flirtation of my skin and a cruel cane) and perhaps lift my skirt... Before he learns the greater horrors, I owe him the truth of me— So, I will say to him: "I went to school".