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.