I look upon my memories
like a goddess, I loom over the world I’ve created
And something has changed, as most things do
but I look through this forest of remembered
feelings and episodes and ask:
Where is my father?
Where is the man who I so lovingly admired?
Where is the man who I thought was the greatest?
Where is the man I smiled proudly at
and wept bitterly for when I thought of all he had done for me?
Where is the man who I thought loved me?
Where is the man who I said, ‘love you’ to and meant it?
Perhaps the man who walks in his manner
and talks with his voice, perhaps that man
who now inhabits my father’s fleshy shell
tortured him to death, or maybe
offered him a better daughter, and sons,
he probably threw in a better wife.
Because the man who drives me to the metro
every morning, knows nothing about me
And my father does.
Or maybe I remember it wrong, maybe
this man who I think is my father
only exists in my dreams.
Yemoja-Osun Tomori is an aspiring writer who recently moved to Montreal from Lagos. She is very dynamic and outspoken, and is always finding ways express her creativity.
Copyright © 2018 by Yemoja-Osun Tomori. All rights reserved.