Face Prophet at Three Months

She screams
because she needs,
proving
that she is.

Her laugh grows
out of her cry
like an errant
branch that
should have been
pruned. I see
edges of it
rising from the
mass of tears.

Her face, contorted
with the being of want
stops. And lumps
of articulation grow.
At first, her sounds blossom
out of a knot of sobs,
consonants with cries between
instead of vowels. But it takes
leisure, a free breath
to practice speech.