Bruised

I took a good long look at my legs today I was getting ready for yoga--what a horror show.

For the 25th time this week, I ran into the sofa as I was walking out of the living room this morning on my way to get a cup of coffee. Never in my life have I walked into so many standing-still objects. The most offensive bruise, high on my left thigh, is a result of walking into the dresser right after I put you down for a nap.

I never look where I'm going anymore; I'm always looking at you. When I ran into the sofa I was moving forward but smiling at you squirming on the floor. When I nailed the dresser I was watching the soft rise and fall of your chest as you drifted into sleep. I've got my eyes on you, girl. I have the bruises to prove it.