A car door held,
The clinking of teeth-
you spoke only a few words,
while you contemplated my shirt and what was underneath.

A year has passed,
and we’ve done all the things-
family celebrations, first fights, 
and yet I’m still looking forward to all that it brings.

A hateful papaw-
criticizing all of the things that you know are me-
railing against the establishment,
joking that I’m blind, without knowing just how much I see.

My eyes are clear to the way you approach fatherhood with patience,
how you hover over when I turn the food in the pan-
I’ve caught all your glances,
in knowing the person that I am.

There’s a softness that sits just below your surface,
reserved for how you address the family pets-
how you cradle the children and even me,
in the way there’s understanding in how you’re brow sets.

I love how the hands that have busted knuckles
turn the pages of books,
How your brown judgemental eyes
can give the most loving of looks…

I hope that you’re always excited 
for any adventure we can sneak in-
I hope that you keep exploring 
every piece of my skin.

Is this how it goes?
I haven’t been here before.
First year in, then another-
I hope this first year turns into so many more.