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  • Tyla McDuff

Tip-Toed



once I held the hand of a man

my fingertips were too small

in his clasp

they itched eager

his rough with time and wear

scratched my soft, baby skin


I would stand tip-toed

just to reach his shoulder

he would look down at me

and laugh


my infant body

riddled with virginity

never belonged to the man

who held my hand


why did they let him tell me

he was all that I

deserved?

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©2020 by Tyla McDuff