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It’s a magical moment 

watchin’ a little you

being pulled out.

Black hair, brown eyes

skin like mornin’ coffee,

and a voice that rings a bell.

Givin’ birth to your own twin,

and watchin’ the growth process

like a gardener.

If she’s a girl, you don’t want

her to play like a boy.

and a boy, you don’t want to

play like a girl.

When you was a girl,

mother would say:

“Don’t play with ’em boys!”

“Don’t play with ’em boys!”

This you say to her now.

A refrain sleepin’ and risin’

on your tongue, as each day


You can see her growin’ tall,

tall as the statue of liberty

with no freedom.

She wears a bra now;

wears hair like ladies

on the front page of Vogue;

walks like those on Runways.

She loves to run away with the day,

and return home with the night;

sneakin’ tryin’ not to wake the

sleepin’ doors.

She is you;

You was her.



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