who's your daddy now?

it was a small house

with thin

walls,

thin doors,

you could be walking

by your

parents

bedroom

late at night to use

the bathroom

and hear the symphony

of bed springs,

the wrestling

of love going on.

you could hear

your father's low growl

asking

your mother,

so, who's your daddy now?

what kind of question

was that?

it was confusing.

why would he be asking

her who

her father is?

and she would answer,

you are,

you are.