I like to be there when you wake.
Hello there, I say, and welcome you back.
You stretch your tiny arms,
look side to side,
—eyes wide—
as you piece the world back together again
with a mind that has not yet learned the word
jaded.
What did you dream?
You share everything with me
in your incommunicable baby way.
But not this.
It is yours.
You are mine.
But not your tiny tiny secrets.