she ran out of the harsh-lighted building,
smelling like home-made pizza and wild roses,
into the cricket & fire-fly night.

-

on the slightly raised platform
of her never-ending imagination
she danced, danced, danced to the music
(Sweet slow intoxicating)

-

with her grand finale she bowed opon her magical stage,
grabbing planted dandelions by the roots
instead of yellow roses
and the neon fire-flies lighted-up her still-blond hair
while her candy-red lips widened to a smile-

she's a celebrity now.

---

from the shadows he clapped
and she heard nothing above her music:

Sweet child, don't grow up too fast.