8/12/12

Dear Papa,

You're on to me.
You have to be.
I know you are.

I come and go through windows like your eyes,
leaving coffee cups and earrings and lipstick stains.
I'm a  phonecall away, always.
This spring, I called home late once
to lie about where I was sleeping.
Before the lie, we talked a while,
just chatter, about the mutual part
of our lives.
Then, we said goodnight, and hung up.
and I lay awake in a bed you wouldn't want me in,
until the guilt was overwhelmed by the
memory of laughter in your voice.

I never slept well there.

Now, the lies are natural.
Or I don't even bother with them.
I say I'm not coming home,
and your "Ok, goodnight" clicks while I
listen to the second of silence
that preludes
my thoughts in the night.

In two weeks, you take me to my new life.
I hope I can make one more stable than this.
I'll try not to waste our time anymore.

Love,
yr daughter