The walls of our home will reconstruct to solid forces,
made of cement and masculine hugs
The day my daddy comes home.
When he left he had a black bag, probably to carry his
costume.
He said he had to save the world and
cover every inch of it with his 12 inch footsteps
somehow he managed to step over our hearts though,
when they crumbled like sheetrock.
He told me not to worry, because
when he comes home it will be as if the occupation
of loving us never caused him to astray.

So I focused on the rickety sounds of the front door
they made me do a toilsome dance.
Much like a game of musical chairs,
with my chance to win the humongous bounty
Making reality of a dream of one thousand dreams.
Nestled between the stillness of what’s not there
and what exists in full form.
The day my daddy comes home.

The world will be saved.
My world is saved.

Advertisements