My dad’s face looks like a drowning
child when a doctor asks
if he remembers who he is.
His tongue, without strength to lift
himself from where he sunk
to the bottom of his watery brain.
I want to dive into the black and grey pool
of his medicated eyes, knowing that he is too deep
into illness to surface.
Silence floods
the air in the room.
I save my dads breath
by speaking for him
–
I tell the doctor
he is my dad
and the doctor looks at me
like I rescued somebody
who has already
drowned.
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