Cheese

The picture looks so real

“He’s the image of him”

The boy, frowning

In the glass, to our left, a reflection

With none of your piss ripples

And the weaker God shall be the stronger man



If I was your baby girl

I’d pull my dress up around my ears

And let the sun shine through the flowers

But I am, in fact your little man and mine is to cry

That it is my face in the sky and not ours



The record turns - backwards

Tons of sour words, tact too, my parents mouths

A lot of it sounds the same

Considering the thought behind it



If you were maybe a baby too

You’d place this poxy place beyond you

And sit with your boy’s toys and deny it



And cause there might be no next time y’all

And a child’s light suits itself

Despite any race you can run through it



And there is a picture of him somewhere

But it’s since faded brown

He used to look exactly like you

Smiling