His fingers like slippery soap. Facing each other,
golden wrapped chocolates appear out of thin air
into his hand.
My excitement boiled up like water in a kettle.
Over and over again I ask how it happened.
His voice a rabbit chewing on grass,
I can’t tell you.
Riddles roll from his mouth. Directions on a map,
leading me to my destination.
Two rose-colored cheeks when I couldn't figure it out.
The chocolates thrown around the room,
anywhere and everywhere,
it all seemed so perfect and I don't think anything of it.
DAD IS MAGIC!
Everybody else's opinions are thorns on a rose bush.
I don't want to let them get to me.
I went back to my dad everyday like a puppy wrapped up
in the magic that I believe to be true.
But the truth bumped into me in the hall,
a trip going up the stairs,
accidental and inconvenient.
I still go back, am I too old for this?
How can it be over.
It was planned, my eyes would widen
and I paid close attention.
But never noticed what he hid in his sleeve.