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Even all those years ago
I can still remember
exactly how I felt
as my father lifted me
above that open,
wooden box.

I have an image
imprinted
of the face that greeted me:
wan and wax like
lying there motionless
as if it were part
of an adult game.

There in a drawn-curtained room,
I can still feel the hand
that pushed my head down
and ordered me to kiss
the expressionless face
of a man...

who, in the half dark
looked a bit like
my Grandfather.




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The following comments are for "The Kiss"
by ograd77





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