Non-Erotic PoetryHas anyone seen my father?It was favor I found
in his warm voice
as he strolled backward
in memory through the years.
The ability to melt
into someone else’s legacy
left me soft and pleasing
like a fresh baked cookie.
So when his correction came
I was taken aback
and shrunk in spirit,
crumbling apart.
He’ll never know I conjured a father
and that his sweet gift melted me
or that his words of disapproval
devoured a vision that nourished me.
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