dreams of my father

Is it because
it's always 'you'?
there is something in a call
this time of night,
its muddled.
not quite right and reminiscent of
a heavy heaving white rum lined
breath
laughter and a smack "lookin' like you're getting fat"
strange ways of showing love.

and now some 30 summers have passed.
and heavy, heaving gin soaked kisses
leave me moist and anticipating
love?
i am recognising self in other - joy decomposes
into fear
am i recognising him in you?
the worst part is, he's within me too.
pause, please pause -
move no further.
I need to know
if is this is the actual reason why i
will 'bravely' defy all of logic's plans
and chart this route, to unveil to you
life and love and the liberty that comes,
from breathing in the good of this world?

because in the end, she never rescued him...

i am the same. 30 summers, not a thing has changed.
she is me
he is you.
making this something we definitely should not even
attempt to do.
right?
for at least, those 30 summers taught me one thing as truth:
one-sided love is not the kind of magic that can undo
broken men.

but if that's true, why, am i still here?
maybe, this time

it's just about
me and you
and shared miseries;
are the only kind of magic that matters
if it's the stuff that leads us to truth.