Visitation

I lost a tooth when I bit my lip-
My father returned it to me.
Fingers brushed against my palm; would he slip
His hand into mine? I longed to see
A connection, something so rare-
But when I raised my face to his,
Hunting for any sign of care,
He refused to look at me, this
Man I hardly knew, barely saw...
My father averted his eyes.
I watched him draw
Away from me. And once more cries
Inside my head were Long, loud, pained.
I smiled. I'd long-since been trained.