Where do you fit in? In all the angles of my life, all the Moments of happiness, the hours of strife, where do you fit in? You said it was just fantasy, you said Don’t believe it for a minute. It's not real. Nothing else is real, only "Momma" and the men of Smiley Ingram. Bevan called me daddy, from the mouth of a child. She knows I am real, she knows I am not sponge bob square pants, she knows what you feel and who I would be: Her daddy! You can pick her up and you can hug her, but she knows if you really love her mommy, because she knows how true love feels, and it ain’t just being there to watch over you, it ain’t feeling like you own somebody, ...that ain’t love, Squeeze her, kiss her, hug her, ...she knows it ain’t really loving her, 'til you know she is her mother’s baby with every smile she makes 'til you see her mother within her with every step she takes ‘til you want her to be in your pot at the rainbow’s end, 'til you see yourself beside her on her wedding day. So I don’t fit in, nor do I deserve to. I don’t breath heavy down your needs nor with expletives Drown you moods, I don’t measure your life out in What you’ve done for me, or what I’ve done for you... You’re a curve thrown too late in the count of my days, yet I played young for you or was it Incipient senility to think you wanted me? I can love and give until I am empty and no one, not even you, counts my nights alone in sadness, alone in my sadness. I cover myself in defecation, my crowning moment of self-infatuation. I am loved by it and and I eat it all, there is no other meal set for my table, because you said nothing was real. Not her, not the baby, nor the boy, none of yours may I call my own... ...all of them were made of other lover’s dreams, conceived in idle desperation to make you feel anything. Still, at least these other lover's fantasies have limbs, they have bodies and hearts and brains, They have fleshed out penis-dream faces, they thrive as a result of your pain and love and they stay ever close to you. Your lover's sex dreams will live forever even as my sex dreams are still-born, our imagined fetus that died before its conception. You will have no child of mine, It was all a lie you called a fantasy. In the end, comfort comes twice, I dream, I dream You once loved me and I once heard Bevan Call me Daddy.