You asked us for a High Five.
He extended a Low Five.
A smile. The first today.
You met his Low Five
and you crawl into the nook of his arm
burrowing instinctively into the bed.
No fear of breaking his bones.
To you he is not brittle.
No hesitation even though he’s just
regurgitated his food.
You do that all the time too.
No apologies for asking to be fed.
You can manage a yogurt drop
at a time while he
falls asleep between
teaspoons of nestum
when he feeds himself.
Who needs teeth?
A gesture, a sound, and a look at the right person
is all you both need.
You make your own songs.
He coughs and spurts.
A groan.
The rare smile.
A nod. A glint of recognition.
He remembers me.
High Fives all around again.
You Low Five and he obliges.
After a minute, you both Low Five again.
You never get tired. And he doesn’t remember
the previous round that happened
two minutes ago.
It’s always the first High Five.
Your hand touches his and you
both smile as your hands touch.
1.5 and 94
are not that different after all.
one:lab 