I give the top of my head to my mom
Silent head scratches are how we bond
My left ear goes to my brother and the songs he writes in secret
The right goes to my neighbor with the sad eyes and stories about dust
The crook of my arm for puppy cuddles
And the belly laughs for my friends
My darling,
There are some parts I wish I could give you
But I am afraid they fell into the wrong hands
Instead, I offer you the palm of my hand to cup your face
My back for you to paint your masterpieces on
And my rhythmic snoring to lull you to sleep
I offer you the unclaimed pieces
And hope you find them just as magical