In the nighttime we are new
fresh throbbing dreams
painted faint pink hues

with imaginary big wheels for two
and all the other lovely things that siblings do
we'll get dolled up
we'll get down
we'll thrown out and paint the town

I'll make sure your tiny pre-natal face
doesn't turn blue
doesn't turn blue

from uterine hopscotch
from fallopian jumping jacks
from mammarie full of posies
and birth-canal no-tag-backs