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Tithe

Christian Ward

I accumulated bruises
like bullies, their peacock
colours always visible
through grey trousers
thin like notebook pages.

Forced to give up part
of my lunch every day,
I became slender enough
to hide in library shelves,
behind lockers and under
the school lectern.

Still not enough to prevent
a constellation of teeth
appearing on my desk
one afternoon or being tested
to determine the boiling point
of the average human boy,

I offered the teeth
and part of my burnt skin
to father, who had the power
to knock down walls quicker
than at Jericho, drown you
in less than 30 seconds
and ostracise me like a leper
with nothing more than a look.

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