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tiny dancer

(hold me closer, tiny dancer)
you hum the song, soft as can be
into your darling daughter’s little ear,
because it’s the only lullaby you know.
not quite a lullaby, of course,
just a song without swearing
or sex.
she sleeps peacefully in your arms,
tiny and beautiful.
you can’t believe you made her,
made those beautiful gray eyes,
that little button nose,
that impossible tiny rosebud mouth,
those rosy cheeks.
at nineteen, you are nowhere near equipped
to care for yourself successfully,
much less this innocent, helpless, trusting,
little beauty.
but you will try,
and try,
and try.
and you will prove to your daughter
that she is your world
and that world, she keeps expanding it.

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