Flutter

December 2015

One good thing that my dad passed on to me was long eyelashes

You liked them too

When you cupped your hands

To catch my melting face,

Your thumbs would trace the wings that kept me up

The wings that kept me up when you left

And the ones that caressed your cheek

When you provided them with a four-letter landing pad

But now you’re gone again

My eyes have shut

And I’m ripping out my eyelashes

Hoping for some chance

That things will change

But I can’t even blow them away

Because you used my last breath

To whisper words in her ear