A LETTER TO MY FATHER

JUNE 12, 2013

issuing forth the heat of words we hardly meant,
we argued late into the night. my chest exploded.
your chest exploded. we could see it in the fire in
our eyes. and why are all the hardest moments
always easiest to recall? the way the pain inside
the creases of your face spoke more than words.
the way i think i saw you cry. the way you walked
outside the room, then disappeared.

and why do these things even matter at all
quite as much as we think that they do?

it took me a while, if you remember, to find you
alone on the porch. maybe the moon was out that
night, i didn’t notice. was it raining? it would have
been if this were a movie. do you remember how
we talked? what was said? how it was somehow
so softly resolved? how i went to sleep then, so
grateful and sad? and even a little bit scared: that
i might never turn out quite like you.