tonight I willfully remember her as a baby, taking in the curve of her cheek in the dark of her bedroom, the little smile curving into it and my eyes fill it out, add the baby fat and take away the teeth so I'm seeing a gummy grin, and she's not so different now, I think, except maybe a little more perfect because she is more whole, all complicated angles and inner machinations. a little person who infuriates me and surprises me and still knocks me over with the weight of all this love I have for her. she who curls an arm around my neck and breathes, "I love you a billion trillion" and kisses my chin and squinches her eyes and in the next breath says, "I AM sleeping." and then shuffles her feet and then relaxes, asks, "Is a billion trillion a lot?"