Three Months and Some

Vale is 3 and a half months. She enjoys looking at fire, her own reflection in the mirror, and the Audrey Hepburn poster on our bedroom wall. She still looks pretty serious most of the time, but started laughing on occasion recently. The first time she did it took me by surprise; I laughed at her while we were laying in bed, and she laughed back at me.

We put on the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer claymation (a holiday favorite of ours), but she seemed more engaged watching Bruce Campbell’s antics on Evil Dead (the show). She has progressed quickly from carefully inspecting her hands and realizing they belong to her, to using them to grab things, and unfortunately, sometimes pinch and twist. I was working from home one day with her in my lap, when Fiona decided there was just enough space remaining in my lap for her to squeeze her butt in and join the party. She came upon my lap with her flank facing Vale, who proceeded to grab a handful of fur and twist. Fiona didn’t seem to mind, but I admonished Vale to be gentle.

She is becoming a bit drooly, and likes to bite on her hands (among other objects). The lactation consultant thinks she will have teeth soon. She also seemingly grows out of her clothes overnight. All the cute onesies and outfits we’ve received from friends and family seemingly get less than a handful of uses before they become a bit tight.

Driving

We were interchangeable from time to time,

Occasionally marbling and entangling until

The swirls of color were infinite and inextricable

 

Under the bridge

You browsed the newspaper

With a cigarette hanging from your red lips and I laughed

On the veranda we floated under the sun

Golden from dawn and youth

You stood next to me as he slithered by, his eyes boring through me

On the cafe patio

You touched my hand

When his unexpected footsteps wrenched my heart, chilled my nerves

In a quiet hallway

Alone with worry

I cried a little when you set it ablaze

Though the very next week

We lay melting on concrete in foggy night air

Moongazing translucent white halos

 

But eventually

 

While we bled ink into small books

I leaked colors with an unparalleled hardness and

You bitterly wandered and lost your fury

Until my tongue was stone and your visions gray

We found ourselves consumed with counting creeping wrinkles and tedious failures

Remembering this

A drop of rain humming, swimming across the windshield

Became a quivering lake in my eyes

But I did not know how to turn around

Emerald Evening

The boat is aglow with firefly lights and with every slow deliberate breath

They are floating past the dock where just a change of mind ago they sat by the fire, kissing cigars

While she threw dull smiles at the red flames, unwound unrequited attachments,

And left someone else behind in the rainforest daydreams

The barge of drifting lights and youth is swimming in circles

Creating a breeze that makes her dress dance like a sea creature with pink tentacles

Behind the crystal of her champagne glass, his eyes are green in the dimness of this yacht and in the morning

She’ll notice they are an unfamiliar slate color

She looks back to see the fire is dead at the dock and wonders if she has been here before