The sleepless nights full of texting ‘Lols’
and sending emoticon hearts must vanish
like Papa’s dentures at bedtime
before the sun finds out.
Collecting two hours of sleep after the
‘I love you more’ war the next morning
felt like gobbling the whole sack of cotton candy from a carnival,
not smart-but worth every headache.
As breakfast’s aroma of syrup and butter consume the kitchen,
Papa passes the routine glass of orange juice
along with the raised eyebrow he gives when he has heard me
giggling through the phone with a boy until dawn.
Breakfast is silent on these days as
his eyes become bullets preparing to shatter
his 90’s retro square rimmed glasses,
yet I can see his heart smiling.
I smile back as the table vibrates my glass of juice when he
receives a text from Mama reading,
“Tomorrow makes two more months until I return cancer free, goodnight love”
He sends back an emoticon heart before
heading to collect the same two hours of sleep.