il fritto misto

Fallen Lashes

you sat on my lap

thoughtfully inspecting
the lines of my face
or stripes
as you and your sister
would call them
when the two of you
were so joyfully self-unaware
that such words
one day might seem
by few
to be not so cute

you quite sternly told me
as you held my face
in your small hands
to stop moving
as you squinted to remove
a lash from my cheek

and as you
so motherly
had me lick the tip of your finger
I made a wish
to be able to give you
all my fallen lashes
and the wishes they bring