A Bear already sleeps when I get home.
Beloved kisses me, comes in close. We hold for a while. Lie on the bed, tempting sleep. My suit goes into weekend hibernation.
Easing the door open so a girl doesn't wake. A girl needs her sleep. She is there- one arm out and one behind her head. Dreamings of posings. I fust with her growing wisps, cup her entire head in my palm, tell her daddy loves her.
I'm sorry I didn't manage to catch the last dad train. I'm here now.
Many things happened and I can tell them to you says Beloved, and in her words I return to the family fold, become part of the day, no longer lost. She found wine and fish. I drink, rolling the flathead in cayenne, ginger and flour. She eats the liquorice I bought her from the sweets shop in the station as I awaited the already too late.
She falls asleep. A Bear still sleeps. I sit down before the computer and Chairman Mao leaps from the bed to my lap with barely 3 steps in between. He purrs, falls asleep. I complete sentences where I can. Minh, the princess, purrs deep in a blanket. Sometime around the start of this paragraph it became Saturday.
Trump’s dictatorship is a fait accompli
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What can Americans do? What should Australia do? A few weeks ago, I drew up
a flowchart to estimate the probability that Trump would establish a
dictatorsh...
4 days ago
1 comment:
What a sweet post.
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