Entanglements

 There's no unentangling my DNA from my father's.

Somewhere along the double helix, there's code for putting my hands in my pockets when I speak, for overexplaining concepts to my children, for turning to the bottle when emotions are too much. 

The nose hairs

The wry grin

The overabundance of confidence

The arrogance masked by charm

The lack of self esteem and motivation

The same intense brown eyes and

aristocratic nose

The burning desire for art for art's sake

I am my father's daughter.