The nightlight of my dark cove, that plastic bulb illuminating
Barbie’s smile flickered
it’s last breath, many many nights ago…
Chalkboard inspired wallpaper,
and Mickey Mouse
covers beneath
mother’s green quilt, purple
plums and pink persimmons, a
quilted garden
like the sun above blazing heat,
moments found me lying
underneath its
peace.
Nineteen years later,
the colors bled through
the blistering sun and upon
your triple fighting heart, an
attack, your masculine fragileness
lost.
They always ask why I won’t let go.
Why must an unresponsive childhood lie
broken in the midst of time’s habitual
movement?
I answer
fathers, they always lie. Love refuses such ill thoughts.
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