Sometimes when you
Return home drunk.
Father opens the door
And let's you in.
No questions asked.
This thin line where
He doesn't confront and
You don't outrightly
Reveal your habit.
He knows it's harmless.
You know it's not
Beyond manageable.
This boundary you respect.
This line of belief in
One another.
It's a lamp on the wall,
Serving light to both the
Sides. Flickers, dances but
Keeps a balance.
A little rush and there
Would be darkness on
Both sides.