Every day, precisely this: a flower opens. Garage doors open.
Joints pop and crack and spread apart. A rubber band stretches.

A bowling ball slides through the mouth of a sock.
Every day, you make me more room.

Every night, I move you through my dreams. I make you
a real person. Your new knees slide past your new palms.

Every day, fewer people look me in the eye.
Every day, I become invisible

for you and I
can’t wait to meet you.