Daughters Who Love

Daughters who love their fathers,

Shouldn’t have to live without them.

Good dads should never

End up,

Face down,

In their yard,

With no one to notice,

For three hours.

With the October sun,

Shining down on,

Their fresh corpse.

Dead before he hit the ground,

On a day he,

Finally,

Felt,

Good.

Daughters who love their fathers,

Should never have to bury them.

Surrounded by strangers,

Who say,

“You should turn his love,

His body,

Now made ash,

Into a pretty,

Fucking,

Paperweight.”

Fathers who love their daughters,

Shouldn’t leave them.

At 30 years old,

Trying to be an adult,

In the face of,

Such,

Insurmountable,

Loss.

Daughters who love their fathers,

Shouldn’t be left with only music.

Only memories,

Of

Dancing,

Outside.

The sun never shines like it did.

The moon forgot how to reflect.

The sea has lost its salt,

Its mystery.

Its magic.

Maybe not for everyone,

But certainly,

For

Me.

Happy birthday, Daddy.