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I put the fast brake to the
relationship
Revved up the fuel injected
cylinders
Sent backfires of unspent fuel out the tailpipe
The angst of my engines just waiting for the red light of her hair to turn to green
Time slips through my fingers like
quicksilver kisses.
Forgotten dreams,
haunted days and scream filled memories mark the hours as they darken.

(I know not this creature, nor her needs anymore
she covets all but comfort, as scar tissue stifles her cries)

Spinning wildly now,
shadows heed my warning and run.
Silence whispers gladly
"a friend to none and foe to all"
Loneliness, my redeemer beckons with a knowing smile
and I am lost once more.
 Dec 2023 life's jump
Napolis
Your the
snowflake
looking for
redemption
as you
circle swirl
from the
ceiling of
this black
night,

and as
you settle.
upon my face

and slowly
melt upon
the corners
of my
mouth,

I stand
and
I wish
I was

kissing
you.
His son wanted to play ball
So he got him a dog

He wanted to go fishing
So he got him a fish

His son wanted some advice
So he got him a book

He wanted some time
So he got him a watch

He just wanted a dad
But dad never got him
My father never spoke Irish to us as children,
We were told it had no practical use, and thus
our language was devalued, never appreciated
for the gift it was. We learned to oppose it, thus
we assumed a generational grudge, we felt it was
forced upon us, and understood we were powerless.
Thus the pain of his fore-bearers was re-inflicted on us.

My father never spoke Irish to us as children,
As an adult I felt The Inheritance of Loss.
Is fearr Gaeilge bhriste, ná Béarla cliste.

Line Nine from the title of a book by Kiran Desai.
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