sarah's dad leans & recalls
his crazy ex-wife. i am high,
sitting next to his daughter. i want 
to understand him. i am me

for the first time in forever. it's just
what i am. the whole time, high,
arms behind my head, i shake
& nod when conversation
doesn't call for response.

there are things i haven't
learned: how to be comfortable
in my body & how
to love.   tonight i listen.

i understand why sarah crawled 
to me earlier on the couch, dug 
her sweet head into my chest
& said: i need you
to love me.       her mom 

snuggled her every night
till age seven. i finally know why
she gets nervous
& needs to drink
when we're out. she's never

had a childhood friend
because her mother moved
them so often.  i connect
with her father because he
is just a guy--as naive
as i am. he has fallen, 

done things without thinking 
as i have with other girls. we are
boys getting laid & falling
in love, trusting & horny,
the male experience. it isn't

his fault he had to leave. he is
driven away, he doesn't do
the driving. at the end

of the night pod & i are left 
in the room. i know i don't
have to say anything. no awkward
silence: i know the man

as i know myself: i want
to tell him 
it isn't
his fault.  

07/16/2007
Posted on 07/16/2007
Copyright © 2024 Paul Marino