Departure

He was there at the airport of our colorful Brazilian hometown.

His eyes had aged

and his fine, thinning hair had been tinted

by the white of time.

His gestures were small and complacent.

I have known him for long and so intently

yet I could say nothing.

To tell him that I loved him wouldn't suffice.

Half of my life I have been gone...

His embrace felt both awkward and comforting.

But it was the familiar sound of his voice that made me cry.

So I said a faded goodbye once again

as my father was left standing among the other family members,

behind the glass wall and the metal detector.

He stood there vigilant and contrite until my eyes could no longer see him.

Now we were father and daughter apart one more time.

The secret of our exposed love, still intact.

And the weight in my heart was so intense that day

that almost kept the plane from taking flight.