creator and dreamer Latourdetara.com
I love to lay
like a forgotten toy in the tub
waiting to be discovered.
But he never comes,
and I never sink.
He hates when I talk about Paris
I hate when he talks about New York
We hate having nothing else to say
I cry less and less.
Becoming comfortable with truth…
making room for it, setting a mood.
What will happen when I am wise and
weep no more…
Will I feel? Will I care? Will I be my own?
My father is a man of the seas.
That holds no weight now.
He follows the tide,
and he drinks the seas,
collects his treasure.
He is jeweler and gem.