What kind of soul were you tasked with co-creating, that to look in my eyes caused you [insert emotion] enough to turn away?
To find peace, I aspire to make love to these kinds of questions, intent to fall in love with the absence of their answers. I have trouble taking my clothes off, but then again, this isn’t the kind of lovemaking that makes for top destinations. The painful questions we formulate tend to carry hints of Assumption loosely saddled atop hope, but if we are the horse, then we can choose the rider.
This is about my father, because regardless the distance, I still occasionally feel him without warning, and because whether he is dead or alive, the questions and answers are mine alone to travel.