Everyone says you will notice
when his adult teeth come in,
shifting his flesh
into his forever face.
But it is his mind I notice most,
gone is the sieve
where I could drop regrettable words
in a huff and trust
that he would not remember.
Now I see his forehead tighten
around the sturdy bucket of his memory,
traps for all my words,
so that I must be more careful
in those angry moments
when my words are wasps,
that I don’t toss things in
that will clang around years later
behind his beautiful
forever
face.