DNA/Making

Charlotte Rowntree

You can roll your tongue, And you got it from your Mother. Your hair colour is your grandmother’s (Father’s side). You learned to bite back From TV, and teen taunting, and it made me laugh, (and cry and rage and want to die) Your eyes look like your Father’s but his have laugh lines and yours examine my faults. (How similar to your mother) You learned to punch, when you were nine. You punched the wall once. (I was scared I could crumble like that plaster) You smile like your brothers; easily, often, and brilliantly, with chubby cheeks, and crooked teeth. (Only not so often anymore) You got your anger from me. I pushed, and pushed, and formed it in fire (like a smith makes swords and axes) (How proud I am, to have helped make you).