In Glorification of Infant Love

As I held you in my arms,
I saw your eyes
And your pupils of possibility.
Three and a half months,
And you still smelled like you.
I could see the red auspicious mark
My mother made on your forehead.
Your nails a little too long,
For your size and small hands.
We had a deep conversation too,
And girl, you sure make yourself heard!
Dressed in blue,
You already defied gender conventions.
As you kicked,
I felt your toes sprinkle
Cherry rose petals on my ribs.
I saw your tangled sprigs of hair
And your mother’s love shaped as a cradle cap.
I looked at us — 8 grown adults
Trying to meet your love,
But ours just paled to your placid affection.
My blue tenderness tinged to a warmer crimson,
As your toothless grin splintered my sorrow.
My dear sister, your name means “Fortune”,
They need to make more people like you.