Whatever I can’t remember must not be true,
and what you did or said is truer than
words I could’ve scooped up, water in a sieve.

While you slept, I considered other things,
so when you woke you would not feel as if
you’d been measured and fitted to the page.

I wanted you to grow up straight, not bent
beneath the weight of my gaze,
but (naturally) I never stopped looking,

never stopped noticing how quickly one
of you finished the painting, while the other
one was only starting to sketch the scene.