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