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.