And if I had another daughter tomorrow I might name her Aloe Pope.
Aloe for waking me up,
And Pope for reminding me of my voice,
No matter how unimportant to some, is essential to others.
Though I may be idealistic and overly self-reflective,
I push forward despite the denigrating gaze of false fathers (or mothers) pretending to care.
That she, the not me, me,
Might grow strong,
And knowledgeable of how well-loved she is.
That she, the personification of delight,
was created (again), through me.