Boy, Do I Know

Whenever I'm around my father,
all I want to do is kiss him.

 

Not in a romantic sort of way,
but as a way of assuring him,
that I love him,

as a dad,
just by planting my chapped lips,
on his stubbly cheek,
for a short second.

 

When I talk to him,
I feel this overwhelming,
feeling of closeness,
because he cares,
and he always has,
and the denseness,
of that closeness,
sometimes brings,
tears to my eyes,
but I usually don't,
let them fall,

because they'll give me away.  

 

My dad has never,

been a lovey-dovey person,

and he doesn't tell me,
he loves me very much,
because he just expects,
me to know.

 

Boy,
do I know.