Memory of Your Kiss
My Dad Is Dead
Someday on Sunday I watched you sleeping in the dark.
I am touched by the silence of your breath.
And I smile to myself.
The only thing keeping me awake is the presence of the fear.
I am crushed by the weight of it's breadth.
And I cry to myself.
If it were the morning it would all seem boring and obtuse
I am grounded by the knowledge of the truth.
And I pray to myself.
When I remember nothing I would surely think something is amiss.
I am shook by the memory of your kiss.
And I lie to myself.
The minutes turn to hours and I know that I will sleep no more.
I am startled by the opening of the door.
And I walk towards the light.
The pieces of my dream are lying scattered all around me on the bed.
I am thinking of the dancing in my head.
As I glide into sleep.
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