When you were newt like,
I was not. I cupped your minuteness
in my hands,
tickling you with my pinky
nail. When you were newt like,
I fed you. Newt food, like
mashed peas and ground
creamed corn. Baby food.
When you were newt like,
I watched, as you morphed-
Changing into my friend,
my child,
my not newt.
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