The charm

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.