There was always
a dissonance between us.
He was never satisfied,
discontent with a love for drinking,
coming and going
as he pleased.

I never bothered to argue -
having him sometimes
was better than
not having him at all –
so I kept my mouth shut
to avoid a fight.

he had an inherent desire
to have the last word
while I digressed,
and bit my tongue
till it bled.

When the priest asked
if I had anything left
to say,
I shook my head.

In reticence,
I scattered the
remaining lotus flowers
over my father’s body
watching as they bolted
his casket shut.