So soft, gentle, clean and unblemished.
Short but pointed on five ends, ten ends, fifteen, twenty.
Softly, gently, gloved hands place his fragile frame in my arms.
I am mystified of my creation -- even unmoving, pink and warm. He's beautiful.
My little tadpole, my grapefruit, my watermelon.
How I would have loved you. How I already do.
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