The ten minutes after, when he starts to cry
I'm sorry
When her nose stops bleeding and her bruises start to colour up -
Those are the best times.
Now come the roses, the smiles and tears.
His words hurt so SWEET she can taste them,
Savour them in a starving heart.
“Sorry my baby, my darling , I love you”
He's gently touching her now,
Gently, gently stroking her hair as she cringes,
Then sighs against him.
It hurts a little, here and there.
Fresh bruises intrude on her ecstasy but he takes his time
As he took his time an hour before,
And these new pains make her feel GOOD.
It's the two of them against the world.
No one understands.

Enter the morning. Enter the world.
A week goes by.
Maybe two.
Cross fingers, hope for three.
He says
“My job sucks
Your mother called, again.
That goddamned truck just cut me off.
Where does all the money go?”
He says on a roll, all downhill
“Hey baby, put down that laundry and give me some loving.
I SAID (he says through teeth clenched tight)
GIVE . ME . SOME . LOVING . NOW!”
Wham.
She saw it coming. Ten minute's worth.