tears on her pillow

my father's last

girlfriend, calls me weekly

to talk

about how she misses my father,

since his death

back in January,

i love him dearly, still,

she says,

with tears in her eyes,

choking up,

but only the good things.

i'm still hurt by some of things

he said to me,

about my waist,

my thighs, and

how he gave me the cold

shoulder,

when he didn't get his way

in bed.

or if i didn't show up on time,

when it was my day

to visit.

he was cheap too, never taking

me out to dinner,

forgetting my birthday,

and i can't forgive him

for the way he

flirted with the cleaning

lady who came on Friday.

but i miss him so much,

don't you?