Titled “Dad”
By Alma Ariaz

Balanced
On cold, bare feet larger than juvenile bones could cover
And granted, permission, to be taken for,
Granted, for you,
As cruel intention yelled this were to be the last time.

 

Remembered
When care still radiated, before the reversal, Away,
Without regard, as it often takes, And takes Away it does,
With fingerprints that stretch far past mine And touch what is beyond my reach, And paint,
Not stain,
The tint of coffee grounds —
So that I may find my way home.

 

Compared
What I know will never,
Me to myself And others to you,
Flowers And Anger And the things you Adore,
Blue eyes trembling under
Furrowed brows,
The uniformity of your Absence And Abundance of your love,
The equivalent I posed to what rose in the morning and sank at night,
All, And All —

 

So that I may stay balanced,
So that those feet never fail,
No matter, how calloused And frail,
And All that you were And All that you Are
And will never come close to being
I took within those juvenile arms,
So that, one day,
You can balance on me.

 

Alma Ariaz is originally from Boston, and now resides in Canada with her cat and dog. She has known she wanted to write professionally since she was nine years old, and wrote her first novel at the age of sixteen. She has since been published in literary journals such as Writers Resist, Fifty Word Stories, and Potato Soup Journal. Her work is mostly based in fiction, as well as involving her own personal life and familial battles.