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.