Little blond hair and blue eyes,
I’m waiting for you.
And your tiny diapers
and clean pink fingernails.
Daughter of my dreams
I already know your face.
Your voice has graced my ears
and black crayon suns have dawned
on the back of red and yellow
fisher price chairs.
You are my little sunshine
but there are clouds now
and a little rain.
And with 48 new moons
maybe they’ll have faded
and you can poke your face
into the lining of my womb.
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