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In early 1997 when your mother had completely shut off contact between us and I had yet to go to a judge to regain contact you opened the door for me. Such a simple thing to open the door.
During the first few weeks of this I would go to the door and knock. Almost every time L would call out from the other side of the metal door, "Go away!"
When this started I wasn't too clear on what exactly was going on. But I persisted. After L yelled; you, being all of two years old at the time, would whisper "Daddy." I would crouch down near the ground and talk to you through the door. The tears would be in my eyes as I talked to you and told you how much I loved you. At some point I would say something which would set off L and she would grab you, put her hand over your mouth, and carry you back into the recesses of the apartment to your room where she would slam the door. As she grabbed you you would cry out in pain "Daddy! Daddy!" and then I would hear the muffle of L's hand over your mouth. After you were gone behind the slamming bedroom door I would lay there slumped against the cold steel door and cry.
continued....
1:25:08 AM
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1:25:07 AM
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coming up above us now is a cloud, a creeping thing. on the trapeze the catcher has a resin locked hold, solid. at the yards, the cirque, a tantamount of luxury, has dispersed its athletes into the night. the rain later will clean the sky. |