we were eating Spaghetti-O’s when
I said that you looked like our father.
you have his same chubby cheeks.
if I’d kept my mouth shut
you might have kept yours open
Instead,
your fork down ,
you began a hunger strike
but I ignored it,
so angry
at Daddy’s blue car,
unaware of how hungry you were;
how much you wanted to be an angel
like you were in your baby picture
with Daddy.
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