Dear Baby

I don't know why you look so sad when you let down your hair. It's pretty, baby.

Little slits in your skin on your fingers let me know that you're breathing.

Sometimes you just shake your voice to scare me, I swear. I haven't heard you sing in three days.

You turn your palms up and I see the purple rivers running up your little arms through your translucent skin.

I want to connect each freckle and mole to show you that you can always make connections because I won't always be there to show you what things mean.

Eat all your vegetables, but you can leave the disappointment and depression I'm sure I've passed on. I'm sorry for that.

I'll let you throw those into the garbage disposal or feed them to the dog.