I am my father’s favorite daughter

I am weaker, perhaps on purpose

I am quiet,

obedience is virtue.

I do not push him off

I do not yell

Humility warms my veins

and his hands and his fingers

He caresses my hair usually

He does not for my brothers

For they push shove and scream

Unconscionable resistance

I am my father’s favorite daughter and my mothers tears

He does not love her like he loves me

She yells too.

I know he will save me

For I have been obedient

The others have not,

So he makes them still

Though obedience is not enough

And I remained unsaved,

merely the last.