He says happy birthday
to everything
to his thumbs
to his grandparents
to the crackers he stole
from another kid’s nanny.
He calls it
his singing
and he claps at the end
every time.
I explain
that it’s a song
normally reserved
for the anniversary
of a person’s birth
not to dissuade him,
just a new fact
for the jaws
of his mind.
He looks at me
with an expression
I haven’t seen before
and I worry I have hurt his feelings
but when he sings it again
and reaches for my hand,
I realize
that look
was pity.