Young girl you are young.
young girl, you are a girl.
Young.
A Girl.
Skipping Through,
the graves of people you never knew.
Young Girl,
Your shoe,
on graves of people you never knew.
Twenty-three, not eighty,
the age of the grave outside your reach,
so you skip to remind yourself,
leaping to remind yourself,
screaming nonsense to REMIND yourself...
you are young.
Dance on the graves of strangers because you are free
and so are they
And why should that be a secret to keep.
Weep for me,
on these grey macabre slabs
countered by bright flowers,
Can you see the flowers?
Young girl,
you wonder things.
Young girl,
the moon says things tonight.
You are more alive in the home of the dead,
more alive than your society allows you to be,
more than your gender can handle.
Young girl, let the stars shine through you,
the same stars that illuminate your morose setting.
It is not sad, you are not sad.
This is a celebration with one guest,
young girl,
you invite the rest!