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Better I see you as a hummingbird
with a love for color and fragrance, and I
your tiny mother, sweet fanning your
gentle egg; better you as the lily that we
danced to in late July, I the arching stalk
to bear the blossom you have been, better
you remembered as the skink darting 
dark cool tunneling shadows, I your quick-
tailed mother in search of a quiet nest; 
the hedgehog child and her bristling parent
slow-crossing a too loud highway, an ant
returning with breadcrumbs to sweeten
her mother queen; better I be your fawnling,
and nuzzle your tender belly; better you be
father penguin, and rock me on bright red feet.