You’re bleeding but you won’t quit and my fists are getting sore; you’ll need days to recuperate. I tower above you but you glare up at me with determination.
It’s a year later and I’m at the Mall; I wanted a book and there you were at the food court. I’m a good girl these days and you looked shocked when you saw me up on the second level near the bookstore. You actually waved and I nodded back.
Now you’re smiling at me with our newborn children on your lap. I love the way you look up at me.