her hair is colour of the first day of spring,

her skin softer than a twilight sky.

yuzuki smiles up at me,

doctors standing by as i kiss my little girl on the forehead.

mirasol widens her chocolatey, deep brown eyes up at me,

and smiles.

"early," a nurse nearby raises an eyebrow, "babies usually don't smile until a few weeks old."

yuzuki giggles, but in an exhausted fashion,

"she already loves her appa."

i kiss mirasol's feathery hair,

"and i love her too."