When the Shiksa blessed you,
Tongue in cheek,
Your eyes rolled upward.
This was not of
Your mother's condoning.
Your father sat
Stocky,
Malignant.
She asked you,
"Are you ready for dinner?"
You asked her,
"Does my tie
Feel a bit heavy to you?"
To this day
She has not blinked.
That moment
Like a Dahmer calling card.
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