She takes such good care of me
my father says,
eyes on mine and not on
the she in question
to his left,
sitting demurely, pearls strung
flowers on her dress.

Cooks for hours
he says.
Slaps the coffee out of my hand
if I drink it on an empty stomach. 

You needed a woman to tell you that?
I wonder,
willing her eyes up from the tablecloth,
opening my mouth to speak. 

Doesn’t understand English
he says,
with the snap of a closed curtain.
But you can eat off the floor,
let me tell you. 

Oh
Father
She understands enough.
And so do I.