i am well rehearsed
in the art
of making my dad feel better.
on the days when he sits in his chair
his mustache drooping,
his hair seemingly greying before my eyes,
staring at the floor
emptily,
i know how to make him
smile.
i'll contort my face into silly expressions
whinneeeee
and wheeeddlleeee
and joke
until i tease that smile
out of him.
sometimes when he's unlocking the door
i'll hug him
just for no reason.
he needs
all the hugs he can get
mom robbed him
of four different sized hugs
that are due
every single day
but he gets
once a month
if he is lucky
he has four
child-shaped holes
in his heart
and one
mom-shaped one
i try
to squeeze them shut
with my arms.