We lie on the bed, nose to nose.
I tent the quilt over our heads,
Drawing a shadow across our faces.
We’re going to close our eyes now,
I tell him.
We’re going to take a rest.
This is our nap fort.
Meh, he says,
Out of the side of his chupeta.
A hand reaches out.
A finger inspects my bottom teeth.
A slow blink, as his long, long lashes
Come to rest on his cheek.
Across the country,
My dad reaches up
And kisses a nurse’s hand.
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