Hands

Working on a puzzle with Ana today.

Lying on my belly beside her,

I watch her nine-year-old fingers manipulate the pieces.

They are growing, her hands.

I can still see the three-year-old twirl in them,

the alphabet refrigerator magnets and bouncy curls,

but they are almost young woman hands now.

I want to remember them just as they are,

so I stare at the curves of her fingernails and the texture of her skin.

I admire her round cheeks, her bright eyes, her little chin.

I can still hold that chin between my thumb and pointer finger

like I used to.

She is growing

sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow.

But as I lie here closely watching her

hands

there is no such thing as time.

IG: @daydreamifications