you were not frozen
you were occupied

there was always something
near you

a glass to rinse
a pile to fold
objects

i had the rest

four years old
making a sandwich

older
knowing which sound
meant stay upstairs
which meant come down

i did the arithmetic
of a household
in a body
that still had baby teeth

and i was good at it

proud of the small efficiencies
of being unnecessary

you never said one thing
about my face
my hair
my hands
the things i made
never looked at something
i had done
long enough
to see me in it

i did not miss this
there was no empty place
where it should have been

the child does not know
she is being underfed
she has been taught
what portion is

now

three children
of my own

a door closes
half an inch harder

one says fine
too quickly

a face comes in
carrying something
it has not named

and i already see

who needs me
not to ask yet

who needs ten more minutes
in the car

who needs their mama
to see the thing
they are trying
not to show her

this terrible
ordinary noticing

how this body
leans toward them
before the thought arrives

how impossible
they are
not to watch

they leave glasses
where they finish them

they do not track footsteps

they walk through my house
empty-handed
carrying only
whatever happened
to them that day

they are allowed
to be bad
at keeping a house alive

to be so beautifully useless

and this is how
i finally see her
that little girl
so competent
so pleased with herself

already learning
to make herself
easy to leave alone

she is not waiting
for someone to come
she does not know
someone should

nobody looks away
by accident
looking away is labor

you kept at it for years
and never once
let it slip

you once said
we have the same eyes
i have done all the seeing
for both of us