TO BE POSSESSED BY MY FATHER

He looked like an image of my father, a memory of what he looked like before he became very old, weak and vulnerable. I stopped staring at him when I realized that I desired to be absorbed completely by a copy of my father; to be possessed by him. What at times had become a sexual encounter turned into a mental and physical separation from a very early experience, primal, that was so interwoven with my self that I could not distinguish between the need to be loved and sex.