Her crumbs cascade waxy wood floor
I breath
Can I function intentionally?
My hand rests on my chest
I dig my fingertips into collarbone
I count
the way I was taught as a child
1...2...3
I am still here
Before my daughter goes to bed
she begs me to read books about Mr. & Mrs. Elmo and whales and Mrs. Doubtfire
I cannot protect her from false fathers
Imbalanced teeter totter parenting.
A genetically predisposed man who wakes up and occasionally chooses to hold her
I trained my heart to let go of tucked in promises
and Disneyland Dad ego strokes
I hope she views his love like an orange window at sunset
I won't let the line to the ride even be created.
She will be okay.
I echo this.
I bite every layer of cheek
Awake and asleep
Her mother is instinct
No choice is involved
It's almost as if I felt her every hiccup
in womb
every twirl and spill and swallow
I beg the orbits of hemisphere
to protect her from her father's contrast
Planted pink egg
faltered *****
a fingerprint.
When she opens her lids and voice
It is only her
Not her mother
Not her father
She is exquisite.
She is Audrey.