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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2102536
A poem about my father who left his country to start a new life.

THROUGH THE PORTAL

Through the portal your face aligns itself
like a droplet of dew sliding down the glass.

A spray of ocean whips against the portal
like fingers reaching, grasping at the obtuse past.

Through the portal your face leans against the glass
moulding your features into a blob of trembling, pale flesh.

A land far far away, across the breadth of the ocean, beyond
your unforgiving embrace: like the horizon that cannot be cradled.

Through the portal your face yields an after taste,
a residue of throbbing goodbyes that dribbles down the glass.

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