The pinkie of your left hand is very small.
You rarely ever finish almond milk,
you make a face while eating cereal,
always pull hair of older sister Tanu,
and loudly scream when you return from school.
Your curious heart beats like a metronome
and I can hear it as I pull out my guitar
and practise switching chords to the soft rhythm.
I know I cannot strum. Your teacher says,
you should join skating classes, Granny thinks
you should swim and Tanu believes you should
go to a boarding school, and all that interests me
is that the pinkie of your left hand is very small.
