“hi, baby,” you whisper.

the proximity between you and your infant is limited. you lay beside her atop your bed, tracing her small face with the pad of your index. once finding it brought a gummy smile to her mouth you’d done everything to keep it there.

you reach to kiss her forehead tenderly before laying back down.

her eyes, oh-so sea green. you’d recognize them in a crowd of colors, the same eyes you’d fell in love with years ago.

and a smile so similar to your baby’s falls upon your lips when that pair of eyes flops down on the opposite side of the infant.