I keep hearing them at night.
Maybe they have already died, but beautifully,
the way a fire can be gorgeous as a red berry-
stained mouth, luscious and not sinister, unless you fear
blades and teeth, and you won’t. What I’m hoping for you:
You will never need training wheels or bras, but leap on an Appaloosa and skip learning to crawl. You will never have shaky ankles. You will play tag with benevolent monsters.
Electricity will arc from your fingertips.