Did I pluck my images from your skin? Is it your moon I write about, your voice that pours through my tongue that seeps into my skin like soil following the seam in a stone? Part memoir, part ghost story, For My Father by Amira Thoron, examines the territory of grief and memory, its mysteries and silences. Through poems that are at times lyrical and at times spare, she explores what it means to be haunted by what you cannot remember or never knew.