she stares through you
over sausage and pancakes
donning a rose patched cowboy hat
brown eyes in fury
green eyes in love
she changes as quickly as they do.
having spent enough time
underneath the star dotted skies
in her first seven years
– you soon realize that there
isn’t much you can hide from her.
do not be fooled by the small
frame and milk mustache
– there is nothing she can’t see.
this is my daughter, my muse, my breath.