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terrible twos

for you, I will drink my ginger ale quietly

and eat my 19s with my fingers

instead of throwing them at other kids, even though

targets abound, and so tempting, oblivious

and chewing, with TV eyes. I like making them cry

and trying to describe it: their faces expand

and turn the color of juice while juice

drips from their eyes.

for me, you will stop staring at the wall,

your frown of intense concentration (you

have the most dramatic eyebrows ever seen

on a toddler) will scamper off, leaving you

surprised and forced to find a new expression. you will cope

by sucking my thumb & we will stare

as deep as 2 year olds can get into each others�

sticky happy faces, immortally softandround with youth

while around us children break things. we are serious

and calm: we read already: our palms tell our stories

in Mr Sketch. I reach up and smooth your hair: your curls

are burnt-toast, mine are maple-syrup. we�re suited

to each other, all the adults say so:

I�ve never seen 2 year olds so sweet

on each other! & we smile, our hands hidden

and working under my blue duck dress,

beneath your Osh Kosh. soon, we�ll sneak to the kitchen

steal cookies and watch Pulp Fiction

but for now we�re content in the playroom, playing, dodging

other kids� cereal, celebrating being 2 years old, and coming.