My baby won’t eat her bowl full of alphabet soup.
She just licks the chocolate spoon before it melts into her veins.
She burps soda bubbles — one, two, three of them
that float high to the cotton candy sunset.
Her sticky fingers cling to her curls.
I whisper, “the letters will free you.”
An “S” for her spunk, a “C” for her curious brain, and finally an “E” for her boundless energy.
Her fingers loosen and lift her bowl to her face.
She swallows that freedom in one big gulp.