"Everything will be all right,"

He says as she sobs into his shirt,

Her tiny hand clutches the fabric.

Between sobs he pats her back: rocks her,

Back and forth.

Back and forth. 

"No, it won't," she replies,

A cut on her face, 

A bruise under her eye. 

Between sobs and with her mouth in the nape of his neck,

The words are indistinguishable. 

No matter,

Without a beat he answers:

"Everything will be okay."

She's never heard a prettier lie