8:45 pm

The device from work,
or the day's grocery
is usually what slows me down.


But most often than not I feel its a girl.


A girl.
It's my little girl who has only learnt to walk and must take one step at a time.
And I slow down for her.








I keep my hands steady. I,
I must hold on to her.
I must open the door and switch on the lights first.











She isn't afraid of the dark.
I am.



But I must never be afraid with her around.











She has this habit of sitting on the floor

and I must keep the floor clean.
She's not allergic to dust.




 I am.














My little girl can only twaddle,
and that's the only sound
in this cruelly empty house.



I wish I could talk back to her but