“Let me play with you.” he said,
She looked at him and smiled.
“Why yes, of course, I’ll get my dolls-“
“You are my beautiful little doll,”
he said, and wound his hands
around her in an iron grip.
“But what are we playing, at this time?”
Playing without playthings.
But he is looking, looking – at his
And then he began to play with her
a game she didn’t know,
So she tried to smile, she tried to laugh
But she didn’t understand why anyone
would ever treat their doll this way.
On television she’d seen
the grown ups play like this
And so she asked him if
this was a game he and Grandma played?
“Because if it is, I’d rather you played with her instead-“
But he told her not to feel too bad,
because it was a normal game to play,
He told her it was because he loved her
that he played with her this way.
“But stop, I don’t wan’t to play,” she said
He stopped, he smiled, then said,
“I’m too old to play with you anyway.”