Chimera

I saw my father for the first time in years. Smile wide. As short
as I remembered. Arms burly like home. He told me the sun is a rock

and the moon is made of earth  but I knew all his lies. Smelt them
like I scout fires in the hollow of corrupt trees. His dithyrambic

was nothing more than a misplaced sense of wisdom and just like that
my shoulders lightened. I fixed myself up then journeyed back to open eyes.

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