I see you through the cracks in the dusty blinds. Phone wedged in your jean pocket, dirty blonde hair in your bright blue eyes.

Weren’t you like five the other day? Sipping juice from boxes and learning how to scrawl your name.

I see your gait, like a man now.

Weren’t you just figuring out how to crawl? The knees on your celadon onsie stained with grass. The furrow in your brow intense with determination.

I see the hairs above your triangle tipped lips beginning to sprout. Unibrow thick, gaze steady, the girls are taking notice.

Wasn’t I just nursing you yesterday? Didn’t I feel the warm breath on my neck?  See the gape of your mouth?

Where the hell did you go?

I see you through the cracks in the dusty blinds. I watched you turn from infant to toddler to child to youth, and soon man.

I see you, always. image

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