hasanyone seen your father?

yourmother held post

untilyou untethered

andleft her round

andopen.

now,she seems to know

onlythat you left,

andyou try to remind her

sheis a place

youshould be able to come back to.

heis fond of birds

andtends to air,

andshe can never understand

whenyou write to tell her

whatfriends see in you to embrace,

andexactly how

youcause lovers

towind over the soft places,

andhow you have become

sogourded

youmake a hollow, moaning sound.

once,

yousaid she picked at your scar tissue

becauseit loved you enough

todraw back the curtain.

letit keep pulling on all sides

letit close in on healing

untilyou are covered,

begradually comforted so that

thespaces in you

makeus consider the empty places

peoplecould live in

ifthey would only fill us,

makeme wonder

ifI have ever been so needy

forreception,

andmake me realize

howeasy it is to redden,

howI am tender to the touch

ina different place

andhow I can be pushed through

atsome other emotion

today,I heard you

andhugged you

andkissed your hair

Iwanted to tell you how

yourlonging reverberates in me

tothis my shattering point,

andI wonder how

anyonecould look at you like

youweren’t saying a thing,

asif your lips were moving

butyour notes were too high,

ifthey claim the better ear

ofcommon blood.