He has always delighted in pronouncing the word Kindergarten in German.

Looking at his photographs of the girl, I feel the shameful burn of looking on my skin and the titillation.

A camera is a great tool for emotional distancing. 

He always talked at me, through her; it doesn’t really matter who the path of speech winds its way towards, he knows the of cadence of delivery that pulls on heartstrings and alludes to an otherworld.

Kin- der-gar-ten,  eyes glossed over, elsewhere.

A garden for children, where all the girls are dewy flowers in the sunlight, a white fence to hold them still.

I only have two voices, a feral growl or a high-pitched bell.