for you.

i'd stand there looking up
at your hair past your shoulders
and at that vein on your wrist next to your
delicate watch -
the one we all picked out with you
from dad -
the one that needed a few gold pieces cut out
to fit your tiny bone structure.
and i'd wait for some signal
of approval or something i thought i needed
then

but soon i was at eye level
with your hazel blues
and then maybe four months later,
i could see well the deep creases on your brow
come autumn, i could look straight at your part
of blonde and brown and grey
until one day,
i grew taller than you

and ever since, it seems we have trouble
seeing eye to eye.