No, he is not a prince in full regalia,
riches falling at his boots...

I love you, possessively.
I love you like a hot meal and a cold beer...

Hanging in the fissure of a whalebone,
mourning songs like foghorns...

Father,
Time's unraveled in a tangle of what's left...

Some are wilting before
Rising with the blazing...

Maybe I was the ocean, come crashing in,
and you were the stream, undisturbed on a quiet...

The scent of jasmine in a rush;
the sun gleaming heat...

They say healing is in the forgetting, so I tear...
It doesn’t take much...

The exasperated sigh of a father is not like other...
His disappointment hits me like a jo...

Is it love or lack thereof that stays his prying...
Were he to look, it would take not long...

The smell of pancakes in the morning
Humming in the kitchen...

I have the power to fix people
And if I can, I should...