A father’s son

Waiting…

Crouched on this couch

Flipping through the pages

The lines blurred

I can only see your smiles

…I am still waiting

Flicking through the channels

The pixels blurred

I can only see your shadows

I am still waiting

Waiting for that guttural voice

Calling my name again

Waiting for those strong fingers

Ruffling my hairs

Waiting to be aroused

By the aroma of ‘suya’ in the dead of the night

Waiting, just waiting

To be called a son again!

___________________________________________

This Story captures my growing with a father in the sales profession.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be called a son by a caring man.

I hope to be one someday.

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