Penelope

That coy pose, shoulders raised,
wrists and itsy palms upturned
little petal curls at her lip corners.

And grandpa fawns, his voice changing
in ways it hasn’t in many years.
His heartstrings about to amputate his pinky.

He had not imagined the bond, her unconditional love,
amazed daily at her flirtatious coos–
His steep conditions have not yet applied.

“Laagi, laagi, laagi,” echoes as she
tuddles down the hall,
lips puckered for the goodnight kiss.

He has forgotten his disappointment
about her gender–and he knows now
that he was wrong to feel that way.

She growls and lays her head down
on his chest.

 

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