comes in the leaving
— can they be happy for you?
is not he that accepts ropes of betrayal
— strangling himself?
i looked once upon my father
— thinking how lovely it may have been
had he stayed
i looked twice upon my father
— thinking how divine it was
he had gone
i looked thrice upon my visage
— thinking how beautifully imperfect
the design of man
– – – – – – –
can they be happy for themselves?
— is the final question – the end game
that comes in the arriving
every goodbye is filled with bittersweet chocolate that when melted with tears makes the sweetest echo.