The Warmth of Your Smile

April 8, 2014

The room was pitch dark,

except for the yellow light creeping

through the space under the door,

as if it was trying to see what was inside.

In the darkness and silence

I lay on my bed

with my left ear on the pillow,

in the same position

as when I used to fall asleep on his stomach.

A tear fell

and became lost in the sea of cotton,

as I slipped under the heavy blanket, shivering.

My hands and feet grew especially cold and numb,

almost forgetting the feeling of warmth.

Suddenly, I felt my hands revitalized.

I heard the familiar shuffle

of my Daddy's slippers

gradually becoming louder as he came closer.

My whimpers were muffled.

I closed my eyes.

Like a ghost, he entered the room

with light, soundless footsteps.

My nose dilated to the pungent smell of his sweat

mixing with the scent of cigarettes.

My hairs stood up when his callused hand

gently touched my cheek.

I slowly opened my eyes.

He smiled at me.

I glowed with warmth.

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