a perfect pallor.

a poem for my dad.

             i was
yours always

like the soft touch of felt against metal 
of the hammer touching the strings
porcelain skin on ivory keys.

f
   l 
       o 
     a   
  t 
    i 
n 
    g


w
  h  
i 
   s
   p 
e
  r
s

rattling through thick, dark leaves of persimmon trees.

frame my disrobed spirit in raven hair and 

chop
chop 
wrap
my heart in sandpaper

crash
crash
thrash ashore 

drown me 
in my ocean
of grief

        i will be
yours forever