a child. small hands,
soft legs, two freshly grown
teeth ready to bite anything
that's in reach.
Oh, the drool, the smile,
and the loud, deliberate cries.
I feel your cheeks between
my fingers, but just then
you pee and I'm asked to
change your pants.
And with all tenderness,
I tend you.
Your constant moving legs,
my loosening grip over
your waist.
I manage to handle your
rebellion by effectively
covering you in clothe.
and give away
the greatest smile.
That stupid smile stirs
something ancient inside me.
A strange familiarity,
as though I have known you
before memory
invented names for us.
For a dangerous second,
I wonder if you were my
kid in a previous life?
But that thought seem to
be forbidden somehow.
But maybe some tenderness
doesn't have boundaries.
Like you're an absolute
baby sometimes and
all I can do is hum you lullabies
to pat you to sleep.