Jan 062013
She asks where babies come from so
I tell her I wished her down from up
above a star so bright.
Eleventeen stopped being a
number. Cherub cheeks replaced by the smaller
version of her future self.
Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy,
still shape her reality, but one day
too soon
they also will be a happy memory of when she was
younger
innocent
needing me
and I will miss the now that has faded into
remember when?
She asks me where babies come from so
I tell her I wished her down from up
above a star so bright. Science and biology
can kiss my ass because no matter what she learns
as she grows into the older version of her
present self, I will have always
wished her true.
