Limoncello

Sometimes the ache is hereditary
&while I look across the booth
Into my father’s eyes, listening***
He describes the death of his grandfather
& eyes blue so like mine laced with tears

the contortions/

I’ve seen this pain before

He tells me, you’re not saying much &
No, I’m not because everything I say
Is wrong – wrong time or
wrong choice of words
That’s what I’m used to
Fucking up

Hard to imagine I’m 30
Hard to imagine you haven’t straightened
Your life

At all

–LM

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