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Watching You Say Goodbye

Sometimes we wait for rejection letters.
Sometimes we wait for romance.
Sometimes we wait for our enemies to die.
Sometimes we hold back our orgasm, watching our enemies under our hips, waiting for them to come.
All of these things are easy.

My father is waiting for forgiveness.
He doesn't remember the first time he gave me a black eye.
He doesn't remember the first time he hit me with a chair.
He doesn't remember the time in Oklahoma,
the time in Texas,
the time in Georgia,
the time in Mexico.
But he knows he has sinned, and he waits and he waits
for the day when I can call him up and tell him I can trust him again.
He knows that one of two things will happen.
I'll forgive him, or he will die.

I am learning about my father.
I am learning about him when I see the love in your eyes
mixed with the fact
that you can never trust me again.

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