True Love

You smell the stink of their spit as it rolls down your face
Some of the spit hits the corners of your mouth
They insult you and your beloved Dad
It is obscene, loud and constant
The whipping was recent and you cringe, as in the heat of the day, your sweat gushes through the bloody wounds all over your body
You can't see through the blindfold, you are pushed - thrown - amongst them and ridiculed as you stumble
Starved and fatigued, you know you are on your way to an even greater brutality
Someone removes the blindfold
You look at them all
and then the truly amazing...
You open not your mouth


Keri S. Smith