she wants to grow.
her voice will be loud,
she will take up all the space she can,
because she has important things to say;
father, mother -
she has no doubt she will change your world.
she thickens like underbrush,
like batter,
like vines spiraling out of control,
wet and green under the rain,
aggressively alive.
jump, young one, jump! you have
joints -
tendons -
muscle -
you are a miracle.
she knows this,
proclaims it,
sings it from diving boards
and riverbeds
and leather bike seats,
all the places she has conquered.
she knows it.
and she doesn't think
she will ever
forget.
