Memory of Your Kiss

My Dad Is Dead

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    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.

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    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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