Today is a court mandated day. It is what it sounds like. It is dry, dark and dull. It is dad's day. I don't like that I want to see him. It is a compulsion. Like an addict, I await his arrival. Air like stone. Legs like lips. Pressing emotions to dusty carpets, my legs flirt like the wind to the grass. He is such a dull man. No magic, no mysteries, no love. Like a robot he rationalizes. If if then is all there is then I dont want to be here. If equations could describe the transitions between sounds and silences. My dad is a dull man and I don't like it, but I need him.