i think that you are perfect

because you are my daughter


the fact that like your father

you cannot and will not

sit still but for so long


how the sun moves over your face

when we walk or take a drive


you choose then to be still

when we are moving, still

because what my daughter wants

a daughter perfectly like me

is company accompanied

with freedom and mobility.

i love the way you push things
your use of leverage is excellent
i love the way you swat your tongue over your lips
when you say ‘mahmahmah’
i love the way you so gently take things into your hands
before smashing said things together with unencumbered joy
i love each and every part of you
shoes strewn about the foyer
remotes lost and found and lost
your tired face your hungry face your chubby face

when you start to sing along

and hold pitch as best you can

head resting on my collarbone

when i am singing you to sleep at night.

i think that you are perfect

i hope of me, you think the same

and feel that way in twenty years

when i’m hobbling and lame

ok, i’ve already got bad knees
but i don’t let on when we’re crawling
on the kitchen floor
in hot pursuit of one another

i think that you are perfect,

a title you will not lose.

i think that you are perfect

something that rhymes with ‘lose.’