She delights in the most improbable.
like breaking her crayons 🖍 to hear the pop.
a testament to the strength sheís developed in 967 days
But when sheís done
So are they
She wants no part of the tattered ones
I pick them up
Not able to teach her
that the tattered ones
paint the best stories.
Their armor easily
And willing shed to provide brilliant texture and contrast
Iíll try to teach her to love
the broken ones
Even as they grow smaller and smaller
Speckled with hubris and laughter
And the hope
birds shaped like mís
And clouds made the same way.
And tilted doors
Iíll tell her
Listen to their stories precious one
so that you may know yours.