What Part of No by Patricia L. Hamilton

Don’t you understand?
You could be her grandfather.
Falcon stooping prey.

Fresh-picked berry, crushed.
Fragrant blossom cast aside.
Hummingbird wing, cut.

Cloak yourself in shame.
No excuses. Douse the fire,
stir the embers cold.

Lust exposed to light:
your name a scrap of paper,
shredded. Confetti.

Tattered coat, flapping.
Your days of empire over.
Girls are not playthings.

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