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At the stroke of five o’ clock The crew begins to trickle in the door for Josie’s Slumber Party. Hand cut finger sandwiches adorn The chestnut coffee table already brimming With nail polishes and eyeshadows In hues of peacock blue and bubblegum pink And temptress scarlet red. The girls Romp around the room like ballerinas Dressed in everything from soccer shorts to Mama’s high heels. Two sizes too big. Practically ladies as they gloss their lips but Girlish giggles and squeals reveal their Youth: Age ten; age eleven; age twelve. And in the middle of this fine affair Polished nails are used to pick at teeth; Makeup adheres to bangs, braids and ponytails. Bare hands brush through the knotted hair of Any and All. Beauty – of course – is collective, yet Dignified. As if to call the girls over, lure them in so painfully slow, The sprinklers awaken on the front lawn and spill forth Waterfalls of childhood memories. Running barefoot during the searing summer dusk. The girls are under The Spell. Feather boa and lipstick at hand, they make A mad dash for the lawn. The squeals are louder, more Vibrant than before. With grass stains on their gowns and water re-tangling their freshly styled hair, these Ladies could not be any more proper.
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:37 PM UTC
An Elegant Occasion
At the stroke of five o’ clock The crew begins to trickle in the door for Josie’s Slumber Party. Hand cut finger sandwiches adorn The chestnut coffee table already brimming With nail polishes and eyeshadows In hues of peacock blue and bubblegum pink And temptress scarlet red. The girls Romp around the room like ballerinas Dressed in everything from soccer shorts to Mama’s high heels. Two sizes too big. Practically ladies as they gloss their lips but Girlish giggles and squeals reveal their Youth: Age ten; age eleven; age twelve. And in the middle of this fine affair Polished nails are used to pick at teeth; Makeup adheres to bangs, braids and ponytails. Bare hands brush through the knotted hair of Any and All. Beauty – of course – is collective, yet Dignified. As if to call the girls over, lure them in so painfully slow, The sprinklers awaken on the front lawn and spill forth Waterfalls of childhood memories. Running barefoot during the searing summer dusk. The girls are under The Spell. Feather boa and lipstick at hand, they make A mad dash for the lawn. The squeals are louder, more Vibrant than before. With grass stains on their gowns and water re-tangling their freshly styled hair, these Ladies could not be any more proper.
shannon-smith-alavi-moghaddam
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:37 PM UTC
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