That I in turn will greet with smiling glow
And calculated social paces. I will dance this dance,
For what? There is a barrier to our closeness
That we will never breach.
I cannot take this happy toddler and her sticky chubby cheeks;
She tells me she loves me with reasons plentiful in garbled child speak.
Resignation stains the conversation; jokes are forced
And met with consternation. I can’t react the way I’d like.
I focus, instead, on the untucked hair that frizzes forth from your head
With no care to decorum, modesty; the little things we do to show
We know our worth:
Shirt tails out--
Jeans and sandals--
Forgotten details on display like internet handles clad in public privacy.
I hate that time is so little and wasted when I can’t cut straight
To the meat-- to the heart skipping along with this desire
to be your child
And kiss you sloppy sweet--
To hold your hand and listen, looking both ways
Down each street. I wish that we could meet.
I cannot take the chubby cheeks of little girls--
The grins I know will dim after lifetimes of knowledge
Begin to take and hurl these barriers anew.
I will get to watch and say how “finally she grew
Some sense” and feel the withdrawal of tiny hands
Careful not to touch this electric fence of distance we dispense.