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Stef Feb 2015
Little Girl Lost said “I spy a full moon”
Yet her wild eyed companion didst flicker, and croon:
"Strange love, I think not, you’re mistaken I fear
Wait two, three days more, you may know ‘f’it was here.”

But she rolled back her eyes, and laughed into the night
Lifting feet from the platform as wind’s teeth did bite
And baring her own, turned back to her friend
'Fore the train thundered forwards to meet a new end.

They found a new platform, were fresh faced and fierce
Running forth to the crowd that was there every year
And just as the flames crept to lick at their jaws
Fell back to the platform they’d stood on before.

They are devilish; pure; a frightening thing
They are mornings of Autumn and evenings of Spring
But now things are better, she wills him: remember,
It wasn’t so awful, that fifth of November.
Stef Feb 2015
He strikes the match against her cheek
Robbing chance from her lips
Parted in wordless elation
To balance it between her teeth
Whispers her lashes shut
Leaving the flame to creep
Softly
Toward her tongue
To blacken its pink innocence
And leave a bad taste in her mouth

— The End —